


Say You'll Stay

by MrsAlwaysWrite



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001), Fury (2014)
Genre: Anti-Hero, Awkward Flirting, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Medical Inaccuracies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlwaysWrite/pseuds/MrsAlwaysWrite
Summary: Don "Wardaddy" Collier just wanted his crew to make it through the war. He carried no expectations for himself. But as each day passed, he worried he would be unable to keep his promise. When fate (or more accurately- Boyd Swan) places a woman in his path with a soft touch and softer heart...perhaps he has more of a motivation to see the end of the war after all.Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic!
Relationships: Don "Wardaddy" Collier/Original Female Character(s), Easy Company Canon Character/Original Female Character (past)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking a look at my series! I am excited to share it! 
> 
> For those wondering where our beloved Easy Company is...they come into the scene in a couple chapters. Patience, my friends.

Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. Dirt and grime covered his skin and clothing. The sound of the Sherman's tracks rolling over the muddy ground encompassed them. Patches of ice and snow still lined the feeble road. He stared ahead blindly, trusting Gordo to get them to the camp safely. The looks on those around him mirrored his own feelings. Everyone was exhausted. Everyone wanted real food. Everyone was tired of watching allies killed by fucking Tigers. 

Everyone was sick of this shit. 

They approached the camp. The cesspool that it looked like from far away became even more evident the closer they got. Half-demolished buildings with a dusting of snow were the only standing structures left of what used to be a quaint little town. Soldiers in grubby gear, rifle over their shoulders, ran around. From far away the sounds of artillery fire echoed. Don wondered who was dying now. 

"Boyd." He looked over at his gunner. "When we get parked, you go find an aid station. Get that hand looked at."

"Yes, sir." The gunner held his injured hand against his chest, wrapped in a makeshift bandage. 

After getting directions from a lieutenant, they found the tank squad on the other side of the town. Seeing the three other tanks gave the staff sergeant some hope. 

"Boyd, medic. Gordo, fill 'er up. Grady, check that suspension. I don't like the way it sounds. Norman, find us some ammunition and where the hot chow is." Don barked out orders as everyone jumped off the tank. Replies of "yes, sir" made him nod, silently proud of his crew, before stalking towards where he assumed HQ was. 

Soon enough he found the building, soldiers scurrying in and out, making the place look like an overturned ant hill. The glass on the store-front was still intact surprisingly, but the door was busted down leaving a gaping hole to walk through. Sliding past a private who looked barely eighteen coming out, he entered the HQ to see a table set out in the middle with maps laid out, paper weights and bullets strewn about. 

"Who you?" 

The gravelly voice made him turn to his right, eyeing up the man sitting on a wingback chair. "Staff Sergeant Don Collier, commander of Fury, 66th Armored Regiment, 2nd Armored Division."

The man exhaled, smoke slipping between his thin lips, cigarette hanging precariously. "Ah, Wardaddy, eh? Right, come on." He stood up and waved Don over to the table. "Captain Evans. What's your status?"

Don eyed the man, he seemed far too relaxed for being in a war zone. Then again, his greying hair and beard and those sharp eyes made him briefly wonder if this Captain Evans had been in the Great War. Maybe this was easier compared to trenches? Either way, it was nice to see someone in charge for once that looked like they were actually old enough to shave. Fuck knew too many kids were running around with rifles now, having just gotten out of bootcamp. Don wanted nothing to do with them. 

"We secured the town here," he pointed at the map, "left 86th Infantry to hold. Then my guys and two other tanks were sent here."

Captain Evans stared at the maps, mind clearly seeing how best to utilize them. "You and two tanks, eh?"

"Yeah. Ran into a tiger though. Now it's just my guys."

His bushy eyebrows shot up, even those around the table quieted down with the news. "Just you?" At Don's nod, the Captain tapped his fist on the table. "Damn those tigers. Alright, good to have you here, Don. We're waiting on some intel before sending you out. You and your guys get some chow and rest. Come back and see me in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Don nodded and walked out of the building, relieved they were not being sent out right away. 

As he walked down the filthy, cobbled street, he could feel the shakes beginning in his hands. Quickly, he stepped onto a side street, hoping no one would notice him. Leaning back against the brick wall of the building, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets before anyone could see them shaking. Memories of the fight from yesterday replayed in his mind without permission. The tiger easily destroyed the rest of his platoon. In a matter of minutes, him and his crew were alone. Ten men. They had lost ten men. Good men...well mostly good. There was that one asshole in Edward's squad no one would miss.

War took the best and worst; death it’s equally possessive lover. 

Hands slightly fumbling, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The lighter took a few clicks before catching. With the inhale, the nicotine and smoke settled in his lungs beautifully. He closed his eyes, letting the cigarette help calm his nerves and try to erase the memories of his platoon. They were dead now. It did no good to dwell on it. 

After several minutes his hands finally stilled. Running a hand through his hair, he pushed off the building and headed out to find his crew. He glanced around wondering the likelihood of finding a roof and real beds for his guys tonight. They deserved it. Especially after all this shit. His own back cried out for a reprieve from sleeping on the hard ground. 

Yeah, he would figure out something. Even if he had to toss some goddamn young Privates out into the stained snow. 

*****

"Nurse Cooper! You can handle this!" 

She pushed the flyaway strands of auburn hair out of her face as she walked past the injured, following the voice of Doctor Erickson. The cries, screams and whimpers of the injured and dying no longer affected her. Or at least that was what she told herself. At least this field hospital had separate areas based on severity and a roof over the top.

She had worked in far worse conditions before. 

She nodded to the tall, blond doctor who barely gave her a passing glance as he shoved past her, away from injuries he deemed lesser than what he should be focusing his attention on. 

A man sat on the edge of a cot, cradling his hand in his lap, which was wrapped up like a mummy. He was not screaming or swearing, so she took that as a good sign. His eyes were closed, lips moving silently like he was praying, a thick mustache twitching with every movement. He looked like he could only be a couple years older than her own twenty-three years.

"What's your name, soldier?" She stood in front of him, wiping her hands on the stained apron she wore over her equally stained dress. Once they had both been white; now, the apron and dress were a patchwork of stains from blood, dirt and other questionable fluids she chose not to think of. 

He looked up, his brown eyes meeting her blue in surprise. "Boyd Swan, ma'am. Those in my crew call me Bible though. " 

"Well, Boyd, mind if I take a look at your hand?" She perched on a stool as he offered up his hand. Quickly, she unwrapped it to see the damage with a gentle but methodical touch. A long laceration bled across the palm and past the wrist, thankfully not deep. Honestly, looking it over, it was kind of a miracle it was not worse. 

"Well, you're lucky, Boyd. Any deeper and you might have lost use of your hand. You might have some nerve damage; I do not think immobility is a concern at this point. I think we can get away without stitches if you can promise me you'll keep your hand bandaged and try not to use it."

"It's not luck, He's looking out for me and my crew." He pointed a finger on his other hand skyward. 

"Yes, He certainly was. Let me grab some new bandages." She grabbed some cleaning solution and bandages for the man. The sooner she finished with him, the less likely there would be concern for infection. If she guessed, it would appear the injury happened at the earliest maybe yesterday. More than enough time for it to become infected. Though her training had taught her to ask and determine when the injury occurred, lately she found herself hating that question. It always led into a story and hearing even more of the horrors these men faced. Her mind had enough memories of blood and guts to fuel nightmares for a hundred years. If she could refrain from hearing others’ memories, she found herself choosing too.

The other reason she wanted to finish with him soon was to open up the bed he currently sat on, in case a worse injury came in. Luckily there had not been a large-scale fight in a week so they only had trickles of men coming in instead of waves of dying men. 

"You a religious woman?" 

She looked up from cleaning his hand to meet his earnest eyes. "I guess. I don't pray like I used to."

He hummed. "I can respect that. I suspect you've seen plenty of death."

Not wanting to remember all the faces of young men she had slaved over, only for them to die under her care, she changed the subject. "Why do they call you Bible?"

"I'm always reading the Bible... I reckon that's where it started. I stopped trying to convert those heathens in my tank. I pray for their souls though. Always will." His voice trailed off quietly, but the fondness in it was unmistakable. 

"You're a good man, Boyd."

He nervously chuckled, looking away for a moment with the sound of his foot tapping repeatedly on the ground. "No, I'm just doing the Lord's work. That's all."

"Well, I'm done." Smiling at him, she pushed back slightly. It was nice to have a patient not screaming at her or leering. There were too many of those men as of late. "Do you know your orders yet?"

"No, ma'am. We just rolled in an hour ago."

"Alright, if you're still here tomorrow I'd like to take a look at your hand again in the morning."

"I can do that." 

"Good. Go rest up now, find some food. You earned it." She stood up, holding the soiled cloths, ready to move on to the next patient or task. 

"I will.” He rose along with her, clearly understanding the dismissal. "Oh ma'am, what's your name?" 

For a moment she hesitated to share her name. Normally she preferred the men to call her Nurse Cooper. From past experience, if she told them her name, they seemed to think she was interested in them. Yet with this man, she found herself wanting to share her name. He was kind and respectful. There were no gut feelings scaring her away from him. "Anna. I'm Anna Cooper."

"Pleasure to meet you, Anna Cooper. You need anything, you let me know, right?"

She was unsure how he could help her. Depending on his orders she might never see him again, but she nodded to humor him. "Sure. It was lovely to meet you too, Boyd."

With a parting smile from both, she hurried to the back of the building where they kept the large tub for boiling cloths. She grimaced when she noticed how low the water was. That meant she would have to go to the river soon. A shiver shot through her at the anticipated cold awaiting her outside. Thankfully most of the snow had melted already but winter’s chill still clung possessively to the air. Plus, it did not help how easily cold sunk into her bones. Back home her family would tease her about that fact. Here, on the edge of the front lines, it only made her life more difficult.

Before Doctor Erickson found a reason to yell at her, she headed back out to assist in whatever way possible. Her conversing with Boyd was her first positive interaction in a few days besides with the few others nurses stationed at the field hospital. She hoped he was not sent away too soon. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is (implicated) attempted sexual assault

Dusk had fallen over the small town. A few stars peered down from the heavens already. Only a few clouds obstructed the moon and starlight. Thankfully the sounds of artillery fire had ceased. At least for now. There were no bird songs though, only the crickets that hid in the tall grass. Their symphony was better than gunfire though. 

Carrying the heavy, water-laden wooden bucket, Anna carefully walked back up the dirt path from the river towards the building being used as a field hospital. The walk only took ten minutes but she was exhausted. Both from the unrelenting hours of work and lack of sleep. Not that this was unusual. Over the past year her body seemed to have adjusted to minimal sleep and excessive stress. It was her night off to actually sleep more than four hours, and her body practically screamed for her to hurry up and find her bed.

So focused on watching her footing along the muddy ground and trying to keep the water in the bucket, she failed to notice the soldier blocking the small path. It was only when his boots came into her view did she gasp and look up. 

"Oh! You gave me such a fright." Her heart raced in her chest at the surprise. Soldiers did not normally come this way. The small creek was not worthy of note besides gathering water and washing things, if need be. It had been too cold for bathing or swimming, not that there was much time for either. She knew of a few that came down to try and find peace in the stillness of the smooth creek. 

Yet there was something in the way the soldier stood looking at her, that raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"Apologies, Nurse Cooper. I saw you out here and it looked like you could use some help."

It took her a moment to recognize the soldier in the dimming light. It was a Private she had bandaged up from a gunshot wound, having only grazed his shoulder. A lucky shot for him. He had been trying to flirt with her as he sat bare chested before her, her hands cleaning his wound and wrapping a bandage around it. It was not until his free hand started tracing patterns down her back that she became wary of him. When she finished and stood up to leave, his hand slid down and cupped her ass momentarily. A sleazy wink was all the reaction he gave when she turned to look at him in surprise. She tried to avoid him after. 

"Oh, I’m just fine. Thank you though." She tried to move around him, even stepping off the path into the tall, frost-covered grass. 

His hands shot out, one to grab the handle of the bucket and the other to wrap around her small waist. "Come on, baby. Don't be like that. Let me help you."

"Let go of me, Private. I don’t need your help."

"You sure? I promise to take good care of you."

"Let. Go." She tried to step away but his grip on her only tightened. 

He chuckled at her demand, trying to tug her closer. His thin lips, accentuated by the patchy beard on his face, curved up in a small smile like her resistance amused him. His ODs were even more filthy than her nurse’s uniform and she wondered when they last had been cleaned. 

He was several inches taller than her, since she only reached about five feet and three inches...but she did not care. Her father had taught her to defend herself. Just as she reached for his hand, prepared to dislocate or break a finger clutching her waist, a voice called out. 

"Anna?"

Looking up the path, she noticed Boyd standing there watching her with his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket and eyes narrowed at the soldier holding her. Beside him stood a young man, most likely someone from his crew. 

"You alright, Anna?"

Before she could open her mouth, the Private still holding her spoke up. 

"She's fine. Now fuck off."

Boyd shifted his eyes to stare at the Private, his jaw clenched. A long moment later his gaze locked back on hers. Hands in his pockets, he slowly started walking closer down the path, his companion trailing hesitantly but obediently. "Anna, we were waiting on you. Don sent me out to find you cause we promised to wait to eat till you came. If we don't hurry on, pretty sure Grady is gonna to start without us and Lord knows there won't be any food left then."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she played along, putting both hands back on the handle of the bucket, "I had to help sew up someone's hand."

Boyd smirked then pointedly looked at the Private with a dead glare. "Somewhere you supposed to be?"

The Private's hand tightened painfully on her waist, clutching her in an almost possessive way. She winced, wondering if it would bruise. The two men glared at one another, the tension in the air palpable. Anna could not help but hold her breath, hoping a fight was not about to break out. That would just be the icing on the cake for how her day had been going.

Finally, he pulled his arm back from around her and let go of the bucket's handle. All the while, his eyes met Boyd's head-on, ignoring her as if she was only a piece of scenery. "She ain't worth it." He spat out. 

He started to move away but at the last minute, he knocked the wooden bucket so it sloshed the water, spilling at least half down the front of her thin coat and dress. Without looking back, he continued back up the path, ignoring both Boyd and his companion. 

"Shit." She mumbled, staring down at her wet clothes. The worst part was she would have to drudge back to the river to fill the bucket back up again. The first hint of tears filling her eyes came, and she covered her face with one hand, willing the tears to vanish. There was no time for that. She was fine. She had to be. She was just so damn tired. 

"Give'er here." Boyd gently took the bucket from her hand and handed it to his young brunet companion. A slight nod and the younger man hurried down the path, disappearing through the tall bushes. "You alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I had it handled." She snapped, the residual fear and anger getting the best of her. All she wanted to do was rest but now, she wondered if her mind would even let her. 

His eyebrows rose, thick moustache twitching. "Really? My apologies for interferin’ then. Norman and I will just be on our way."

"Wait, no. I'm sorry. That was rude. I just…and then he...I…" Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands, taking a few, deep breaths. Her emotions felt like a tornado threatening to overtake her. Anger, frustration, exhaustion, hopelessness and fear swirled within; tears gathered in the corners of her eyes but she quickly wiped them away. She crossed her arms over her chest, the cold from the water soaking her coat beginning to slip under her skin. 

Boyd faced her, one hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. Did he hurt you though?"

"No. He...um, he had just approached me."

He seemed to weigh her words before grunting an affirmative, his head swiveling back up to look down the path towards the river. "When did you last eat?"

"What?" She looked up at him in confusion, a shiver rattling her. If it was from the cold or adrenaline, she was unsure.

He smirked, looking back at her, with kind brown eyes. "When did you eat?"

"Um…" It was embarrassing how she had to rack her brain for that answer. Apparently she took too long because Boyd shook his head and interrupted her thoughts. 

"That settles it. You're coming with us."

"Wait, what?"

The younger man appeared, carrying her bucket, a shy smile on his boyish face. 

"Norman, this is Nurse Anna Cooper. Anna, this is Norman." Boyd quickly introduced, hands back in his jacket pockets. "She's gonna eat with us."

"Oh, ok. What about…?" Norman glanced down at the full bucket. 

Anna answered, holding back tears once more that she did not have to trek back down to the creek. "I have to take it back... to the hospital."

"Right. Let's go." Boyd walked beside her; Norman followed, still carrying the bucket. 

Her mind struggled to understand what all had just transpired in the last few minutes but if war had taught her anything, it was to roll with the punches and keep moving. 

Anna pushed open the back door to the make-shift hospital, the immediate warmth bringing a small smile to her face. Nurse Falk stood in the back room, tending to the fireplace. 

"What took ya so long, girl, I almost sent Evelyn to find ya…" Nurse Falk began when she heard the door open, but when she turned around to see Anna standing inside with the two soldiers escorting her, her mouth snapped shut. Immediately, her piercing gaze pinned Anna to her spot, making her shift uncomfortably. 

"Ah, they… um, they helped me." Anna started, unsure what she wanted to say. 

"Evenin', ma'am." Boyd took over, giving the middle-aged woman a respectful nod. "I met Anna earlier today and when I saw her gathering the water, I offered to help."

"That's mighty kind of ya, sir." Nurse Falk stated, though her tone only held a smidgen of actual appreciation. The head nurse was harsh and ran her hospital with a firm whip but she looked out for her girls, especially when it came to men sniffing around them. 

"It's no problem. We'll get outta your hair. If s'alright, Anna is gonna come eat with me and my crew. Said she couldn't remember when she last ate."

Anna averted her eyes, picking at her nails as she could feel the anger in the head nurse's gaze. 

"Mmm...that's kind again of ya to offer but…"

"I swear on the Lord's holy book, I won't let nothin' happen to her. We're just going to eat. I'll make sure she's back in an hour."

Nurse Falk pursed her lips, swiping her graying hair off her forehead. "Anna?"

The redhead glanced at her matron and silently nodded. 

"Alright. One hour." Nurse Falk held up one finger to emphasize. Then her eyes seemed to take in Anna's mess. "Christ, girl. Why in the blue blazes are ya wet?"

"I spilled the bucket."

"Mmm, well take ya coat off. Ain't doing no good now. Hang it near the fire, then off with ya. One hour, ya hear me."

Anna followed her instructions, hanging her thin coat on a peg near the fireplace, having formed a small puddle where she had been standing. As she finished that, she could see the younger man- Norman- handing the bucket to the head nurse. 

Next thing she knew, she was walking through the devastated town, Boyd on her left and Norman on her right. A chill swept through on the evening breeze, raising goosebumps on her exposed skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, her damp dress seeming to hold onto the cold air greedily. She wondered if the two would have waited for her to change clothes, but it was too late now. She had not realized how much water soaked into her dress until she took her coat off. 

"Here." Norman shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over her shoulders.

"Oh no, it's …"

Boyd interrupted her. "I was 'bout to give you mine if he didn't. Can't have you catching a chill out here."

"But…"

"Just say thank you."

She shot a glare at Boyd who smirked, keeping his gaze forward. Rolling her eyes, she quietly thanked Norman, who smiled shyly. Honestly, the extra layer felt heavenly, it was just enough to keep the chill out and she hoped to help dry her dress out. Norman was only three or four inches taller than herself so his jacket was not too huge on her shorter frame. Arms in the sleeves, she wrapped her arms in front of her to keep the jacket somewhat closed. It smelled of sweat, gunpowder and gasoline. Nothing too unusual from the rest of the war. At least it did not smell like blood. She was thankful for that. 

As they walked, Boyd talked about how they were a tank crew and briefly mentioned each of its members. His voice became a background noise amidst the sounds of renewed artillery fire, shouting orders, and vehicles moved around. A few times they had to stop to wait for a truck to pass or a squad of soldiers. Twice catcalls followed as they passed, not that she really paid attention to that anymore but after what just happened with the Private, it made her tense. 

"Don't you pay any attention to them." Boyd commented quietly, moving slightly closer nonetheless. 

Finally, they arrived at a brick building, a large chunk missing out of one of its corners. It looked like a giant had taken a swing at the building and clipped its corner causing a hole. A few soldiers relaxed on the main floor, smoking or sleeping. A couple of them turned to watch the three enter but no one said anything. Boyd quickly ushered her up the stairs to the second floor and an adjacent room from the creaky, wooden stairs. 

"Bible, where the fuck you…" 

A man's harsh voice abruptly ceased after Boyd pulled her through the door behind him. 

A single lamp was alight in the corner, casting shadows over the abandoned bedroom and its three occupants, waiting for their companions' return. A small gasp escaped her but before she could turn around and run out the door, questioning the wisdom of her blindly following someone she met once, Boyd gripped her upper arm. 

"This here is Nurse Anna Cooper. I invited her to eat with us, so you heathens show some respect." 

Silence hung heavy in the room. She wondered if she should back out, if this was a mistake. Why did she come here? Scanning the room, she realized the silence lingered because everyone was staring at one of the occupants in particular. Almost as if waiting for his permission. When she looked his way, she noticed him staring at her, eyes slightly squinted. Something within her rose up and she met his gaze without wavering. She was exhausted, honestly the thought of food had made her realize how ravenous she was and she liked Boyd, his presence was comforting and peaceful. So far, he had not given her any creepy vibes. If this...man who clearly was in charge wanted her to leave, he was going to have to say it. She was just too damn tired to care for pleasantries. A shudder shot through her as her body attempted to absorb the warmth in the room, making her tremble slightly. She tugged Norman’s jacket tighter around herself. 

The man looked just as weary as she felt. A scar on his cheek along with dirt and grime scattered across his handsome face made her wonder when he last enjoyed the luxury of bathing. His hair cut was odd, with it practically shaved on the sides and long on top. His eyes held an intelligence and determination she had rarely seen before. As his sky-blue eyes met hers, a slight shiver went down her spine. Not from fear, but attraction and a strange desire for his approval, surprising her through the haze of exhaustion. Which later she really should reprimand herself for. This was war, there was no time for attraction and romance. Wait, when did she start thinking about romance? A slight blush rose to her cheeks. She barely knew this man. Her friend back home would be laughing at her if she could read her mind right now. Christ, she must be more exhausted than she thought. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave a brief nod then looked over to only non-white man in the room. "We got extra?"

The stout man's eyes bounced back and forth between her and the other man- obviously their commander- before smiling. "Yeah, yeah. We got enough for la mamacita."

The commander met her gaze once more with a tight-lipped smile. 

What had she gotten herself into? Who was this man?

*****

What in the fuck was Boyd thinking bringing a girl like her here?

Don watched as she sat between Boyd and Norman on the ground, head bowed and eyes closed as Bible led them in a quick prayer over their dinner. 

She certainly was a pretty little thing. Auburn hair that was tied in a bun on the nape of her neck, a few strands hanging out around her face. Rich blue eyes like sapphires that seemed to take in everything at once when she entered the room. A button nose over soft lips, the bottom lip slightly fuller. What caught him was how tiny she was. Yes, she was certainly on the shorter end, but from what he could tell how Norman's jacket hung off her and her dress, she would normally be slender but now she looked far too skinny. He wondered if this was why Boyd brought her. It seemed meals were not a regular occurrence for her. Nor rest, if the dark circles under her eyes were any indicator. 

Everyone quickly began to dig into the food they had managed to scavenge. Gordo and Norman had found some unspoiled apples, making sure everyone had at least one. They split the better parts of the C rations and two cans of beans they also found. Don knew he should inquire as to where Gordo and Norman found the food but with the pleased looks of his crew, he chose not to. Plausible deniability and all that. 

"So, you're a nurse, huh?" Gordo broke the ice, munching on his third apple. 

She jumped slightly as if surprised someone had spoken to her or had been lost in thought. "Yes."

"That how you met Boyd, huh? You at the hospital?"

"I cleaned up his hand."

"Uh huh...so how you end up here? That was hours ago that he went to get his hand fixed."

Don knew Gordo was searching for something, even if his question and tone seemed casual. Not that his own mind had not been repeatedly asking the same question. He had sent out Boyd and Norman to check on Fury one last time and had returned with this girl. 

Fucking hell.

She tugged Norman's jacket tighter around herself almost subconsciously but before she could open her mouth, Boyd answered. 

"Ran into her outside the hospital and asked her to join us. It's nice to be around pleasant company every once and awhile instead of you complainers."

That got Gordo jokingly riled up, even Grady threw out a comment. 

Don just smiled, taking a bite out of his apple, sitting between Boyd and Gordo. This crew, he considered family. They were his brothers. He glanced over at Anna and noticed her suddenly tensed, tucking her legs beneath her. Norman and Gordo were arguing over what tasted the worst in their C rations. Boyd just laughed along. It was then he noticed what was making her so uncomfortable. Grady was leering at her, a dopey smirk on his face. 

"Grady, knock it off."

Coon-Ass looked up at him, not in the least bit phased at being caught. "What?" 

"I said, knock it off."

"Shit. Ain't hurting no one."

Don just glared at him until he huffed and muttered something under his breath, suddenly finding the can of beans extremely interesting in his lap. 

Whatever food was placed in front of her, she quickly ate. Although if it was due to nerves or actually hunger, that was still up in the air. Don caught Boyd a few times sliding some of his own food her way. She would give him a look but he just ignored her, nudging her until she ate it. The whole time she kept herself wrapped up in Norman's jacket tighter than a ball of yarn.

Don had a few questions for his gunner once she left. 

As the food disappeared amongst the group, he watched her eyes grow more and more heavy. A couple times, unsuccessfully, trying to hide a yawn.

"I should get going." She mumbled out, unsteadily getting to her feet. Slipping off the jacket, she gave it back to Norman with a quiet thanks. 

Boyd jumped to his feet. "I'll walk you back."

"No, it's ok."

"Anna…"

"I'm fine." She snapped then winced. "I'm sorry, I just...if Doctor Erickson thinks I'm fraternizing…" 

"It's alright."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." Her gaze skimmed over the group quickly. "Thank y’all for letting me join you. It was a pleasure to meet y’all."

Before she could walk out, Boyd stopped her, his hand on her arm, voice low but not enough for the others to not catch his words. "You go down to the river again; you find one of us. Or for anything, yeah?"

She nodded then ducked out, leaving silence in her wake. 

"Care to explain what that was about?"

Boyd ran a hand over his mustache before speaking. "Nothing, Don."

"Didn't seem like nothing." Gordo stated, already laying on the floor with his eyes closed. "She's pretty. Real pretty. I think Bible was thinking with his…"

"Gordo, you say another word and I'm going to shut your mouth for you." Boyd threatened, glaring at his crew mate. Grady and Gordo just laughed. 

Don watched on silently. A picture of what happened formed in his mind. It was obvious Boyd was protecting her from something. "Norman," he looked over at the kid who he considered a younger brother, "what happened?"

The kid glanced from Don to Boyd and back, clearly hesitant to share whatever it was Boyd was hiding. 

"Go on, Norm. S'alright." Boyd slid down the wall to take a seat. 

"Well, we are walking, see, Bible and I heard a commotion. There was this Private who had her…" His voice dropped off. 

"It's alright, son." Don turned from Norman to Boyd. "And the eating?"

"She couldn't remember when she last ate."

"Fuck." Don whispered; he could already see the determined look in Boyd's eyes. He had found a stray he planned on taking care of while here. Don sometimes wished Boyd relaxed like the other soldiers- drinking, smoking and women. Boyd "Bible" Swan was a good man, too good for those around him. Instead, he would find something usually to nurture, a stray dog or cat, and while they were in whatever hell hole they were in, until the next orders came, he would take care of his stray. This time...it seemed to be this nurse. 

"Get some sleep. We'll be getting our orders tomorrow." Don said, moving to lay on his back. He could hear the others moving around, getting settled on the hard, wooden floor. His hopes of finding beds for his crew came to naught but at least they had a roof over their heads and floor space to stretch out. Though he did have to commandeer the space from a couple of Privates who were all but almost asleep. A sharp remark and a couple kicks to get them on their feet and out the door did the trick though. 

Closing his eyes, he hoped sleep would find him quickly and without dreams or nightmares. His mind though kept revisiting a pair of sapphire eyes that met his own in such silent strength, he had almost chuckled at the time.


	3. Chapter 3

Don stalked out of the HQ building, cigarette hanging between his lips. They had their orders. Tomorrow they would be heading to the next town to liberate and secure. Captain Evans had put him in charge of the other three tanks and their crews. Two of the other crews he recognized- Davis and Binkowski- having worked with them before. Yet memories of the last team he led and their demise...fuck, he could not think about that. He knew it was not his fault that Tiger got those lucky shots in. 

His hands still shook slightly at the memory though. Hearing their screams. He wondered if he would ever be free from the sounds of dying men or if that would haunt him until his own demise. 

Walking down the snow-laden, muddy streets, his attention switched from the checklist of preparations running through his mind to seeing Boyd crossing the street up ahead. 

"Boyd!" He shouted, getting his gunner's attention. Boyd stopped and waited for him, thankfully. Fuck if Don was going to jog to catch up. "Where are you off to?"

Boyd motioned towards the field hospital, with the cigarette in hand. "Promised Anna I'd stop by if we was still here."

"Alright. Let's go."

If Boyd wondered why Don was following him, he wisely kept his mouth shut. 

"Get our orders?" The gunner asked, maneuvering around a seeping pot hole in the ground. 

"Yeah, heading out tomorrow. Gonna take out a town but start in the reserves. Intel says there are civilians there and they want to minimize damage."

"We sure these civilians won't shoot us when our backs are turned?"

"One can only hope."

They entered the field hospital, both having tossed his spent cigarettes just outside the door. A few men lay on cots but overall, it was surprisingly quiet. A curvy, dark-haired nurse was passing out what looked like bowls of watery soup to the wounded men. A few of the men glanced their way but went back to whatever they had been doing before. From somewhere off to the left, it sounded like someone was constantly hacking up a lung in a different room. 

Don usually did everything possible to avoid going to field hospitals or aid stations. The air always seemed tainted with blood, death and screaming. Something he had more than enough experience with on his own. There were a few times he should have sought medical care but refused, forcing Boyd to wrap up the bullet graze or the one time he got a small piece of shrapnel in his leg. That one hurt like a sonofabitch. Why he was here now with Boyd, going out of his way to enter a field hospital he had no reason to be in... he could not even justify it to himself. 

A middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform walked over to them, coming from a side room. "Y'all injured?" Her shrewd, brown eyes looked over both men with terrifying precision, trying to determine who was the patient. 

Boyd pulled out his bandaged hand from his jacket pocket. "Came here to see Anna...ah, Nurse Cooper. She wanted to check it yesterday."

"Mmm… ya that fella that looked out for her last night. Made sure she ate."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank ya kindly again. That girl gives too much and forgets to take care of herself. I'll get her for ya. Y’all go on now and take a seat towards the back." She gestured towards the few open beds, then turned those shrewd eyes on Don to openly scrutinize him. "Why are ya here?"

"Moral support. Boyd here is a crybaby and I said I'd hold his hand…" He chuckled as Boyd swatted his arm, muttering something under his breath. 

She pursed her lips but did not comment. "A'right. Y'all best be on good behavior. Doctor Erickson is in a right mood, I tell ya. I don't want her to get in no trouble because of y’all, ya here?" Without explanation, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

Don met Boyd's eyes but he only shrugged. He followed his friend to a cot set against the back wall. Don snagged a nearby stool and leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. They sat in silence, neither one feeling the need to fill the air. They had been comrades for three years now and brothers for just as long. Often with a single look they could understand one another. Don was not sure if he believed in God anymore, he had seen too much war and too much death. But if there was a man upstairs, He deserved to be profusely thanked for bringing Boyd into Don's life. 

"Good morning, Boyd. Good morning, sir." Anna chirped as she came around from a side door, wiping her hands on a cloth. She briefly looked around the floor nearby, hesitated then sat down next to Boyd on the cot. 

"Mornin', Anna. How are you today?" Boyd asked. 

"I'm fine. How are you? How does your hand feel?" She asked as she placed his bandaged hand on her leg and began unwrapping it. 

"Feels a little stiff, don't hurt too much anymore."

"Good." She poked and ran the lightest touch around the cut on his palm. "Doesn't look like it's infected and it's healing nicely already. I'm going to bandage it back up with some new dressing. Try and keep it clean and dry, change the dressing every day. Do you have your orders?"

"Yeah, heading out tomorrow."

"I'll grab some extra dressings for you then. Can one of your crew help you with it?"

Don cleared his throat. "I'll make sure." 

She met his eyes for the first time with a small smile before standing back up. "I'll be right back." She disappeared around the corner. 

"She reminds me a little of my sister." Boyd softly said, gaze having followed her out. 

Ah, so there it was. Don eyed his gunner but chose not to comment. It made sense now why he was so protective of the young woman. Boyd had always been the most sentimental of their crew. Hopefully that sentimentality would not bite him in the ass later. 

It did not take long for the red-headed nurse to return, hands holding new wrappings and dressings. Before she could sit down on the cot again, a shout made her jolt, whipping around to face towards the front. 

"Nurse Cooper!" 

Don watched a tall, blonde man stride into the room like he owned every inch of the ground he walked on. With his doctor's uniform on, he practically did. The tank commander was unsure what was going on but he had a bad feeling. Unconsciously, he straightened up in his chair, staring hard at the doctor.

"Come here!" The doctor bellowed, completely ignoring the scene he was causing.

Anna carefully set the bandage down next to Boyd before slowly walking towards the doctor. He stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips and a glare to rival the devil's on his stubbled face. When she stood before him, he immediately got in her face. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my patients! One came in here an hour ago and complained you ignored him! Need I remind you that we are to help everyone with an injury, it does not matter our personal preferences or if you find them attractive. You do your damn job!"

"Yes, sir. I apologize, I asked Nurse Falk to help him because…"

A loud smack filled the air. 

The doctor pulled his hand back from backhanding her to only point a finger at her. "I don't care for your excuses. Do your fucking job or I'll find you some hell hole to work in. Do I make myself clear?"

Don was up and moving before he realized it. He looped an arm around Anna's waist and pulled her behind him in one fluid motion. He squared off in front of the doctor, meeting him eye to eye. 

No words were spoken, yet a war waged between them. This doctor wore an air of authority like a badge to wave in other's faces. If he expected the tank commander to back down, he was sorely mistaken. Don had been fighting too long, killed too many men with his own hands to be intimidated by someone who thought when he opened his mouth, everyone around should obey. Don narrowed his eyes, silently begging the man to try something. Give him an excuse to knock the arrogant asshole down a couple notches. 

Finally, the doctor looked over Don's shoulder, glaring at Anna one more time. "Do your job." He spat out before retreating out of the room and up a set of stairs. 

Don watched his retreating form for a minute, making sure the man was not going to turn around and continue to publicly berate and abuse Anna. When he could no longer hear the doctor's step, he looked down at the small woman still huddled against him. 

"You alright, sweetheart?"

Tilting her head up to meet his eyes, she nodded and licked her lips before answering, voice just above a whisper. "Thank you."

He could not help it. Oh so carefully, he put his other hand on her chin and turned her head to see the reddened cheek. 

"I'm fine. It's not that bad." She stepped out of his grasp and looked back towards the front. 

The middle-aged woman with the shrewd eyes and graying hair watched them, both hands gripping a towel until her knuckles were white. Quietly, she approached and took a look at Anna's cheek. "Finish up with ya patient then get to the kitchen. Make yaself a cup of tea."

"Yes, ma'am." Anna started back down the rows of cots to Boyd's side, head down, ignoring the looks sent her way by those in the room. 

Don met the aging nurse's eyes and a silent understanding passed between them. She gave him a brief nod then left. A sigh left his lips before he rejoined Boyd and Anna, returning to his spot on the stool. 

She worked silently, putting some kind of ointment on Boyd's cut and dressing it. 

"Anna." Boyd tried to get her attention but she ignored it, working methodically. "Anna, look at me. Come on."

Finally, she looked up with watery eyes. "He came in this morning."

"Who did?"

"That Private from last night…"

"Shit," Boyd swore, rubbing his other hand over his moustache, "that's who the doctor is yelling at you about?"

She looked away, gathering up the soiled dressing, then stood. "I need to clean these. I… I wish you both well tomorrow...good luck." 

Boyd stood, putting a hand on her shoulder. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times as if to say something encouraging but finally settled with, "I'll be praying for you."

"Thanks. If anything, I'm glad I met you." She looked down at Don, still sitting with his forearms on his knees. "Both of y’all. Thank y’all for everything." With a final small smile, she walked out of view and towards the back room. 

"Don…"

The tank commander finally stood, quickly lighting a new cigarette. "I know, Boyd, I know. Come on. Us lingering isn't gonna do her any good."

They walked out together side by side, clean dressings and bandages in both their pockets. Neither said anything as they walked back to Fury, their separate thoughts on the auburn-haired nurse. 

When they caught sight of Fury with the others lounging around, Don knew what he had to do. 

"Fuck it." He muttered then stopped walking. "Bible, start getting Fury ready to leave for tomorrow. Spread the word."

"Where you going, Don?"

"There's something I gotta do."

Before further questions could be asked, he started back the way they had just come. He brusquely pushed past someone standing idly in the doorway of the field hospital. His eyes scanned the large front room and landed on the matronly nurse from before, who was examining a man's shoulder as he gritted his teeth. 

"Nurse." Don spoke up, stepping closer. When she looked up at him, he continued, "where is she?"

She seemed to weigh out her answer before jerking her head towards the back. "In the kitchen still. Be quick."

He brushed past all the cots and the few men filling them, wandering into the back room where a few extra cots were and medical supplies in cabinets. To his right was another door. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and was relieved it was the kitchen. 

It was a small room and probably had been cozy at one time before the war came and ravaged it. A fire was lit in the hearth, a black kettle hanging just over it. The sound of the water just beginning to boil made the scene feel domestic. A small wooden table was pushed against the wall, three chairs crowding it in. Anna sat on one of the chairs, hair freed from its typical bun and hanging loose down her back. Having heard the door open, she turned and he witnessed her eyes widened as she recognized him. 

"Sergeant? Is everything alright?" 

Putting his boot on the chair across the small table from her, he unstrapped the combat knife and sheath strapped to his lower leg, hidden under his trousers. It thudded when he set it on the table, the sound feeling like a gong going off even though it was not nearly that loud. 

"It's a Mark 3 combat knife. I've had it since North Africa. Hide it somewhere on you that you can reach easily. Don't worry about using it right, just use it however you can to defend yourself. Slash. Stab. Doesn't fucking matter. You wait though until they can't get away. Don't pull it out too soon and someone with skills will knock it out of your hands or just take it from you. Got it?"

Her sapphire eyes were wide as saucers as she looked at him then the knife, gingerly reaching her hand out to touch it. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Look, find someone to show you how to use it if you…"

She reached over and placed a hand on his forearm, effectively silencing him. "I know how to use a knife. My father taught me. I had a knife but Doctor Erickson took it. Said it was not appropriate. This time he won't find it." She looked up, meeting his hardened gaze. "Why did you come back?"

Don sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

They stared at each other, both seeking answers in the other person's eyes. It was in this moment he truly began to notice things about her; like how there was a ring of gold around the iris in her eyes, how there was a slight dimple in her chin, how her features were soft but underneath it all, was a core as strong as steel. This was how she had survived as long as she did on the front lines of war. His respect for her increased. She looked a dainty, petite little rose but that was only her outward appearance. 

The door opened behind them and the dark-haired, curvy nurse stuck her head in. "Anna, I'm going to need your assistance."

"Yes. Yes, I'll be right there."

The other nurse closed the door, only sparing Don a quick look. With that, whatever intimate moment they conjured shattered into a thousand glass pieces. 

Don rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what just happened. It did not matter though. In all likelihood he was never going to see her again. "Good luck, Nurse Cooper."

He turned to head out but she gripped his arm, holding him frozen. In a flash, she stepped closer and rose up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his jawline. Not that she could reach much higher. 

"Stay safe, Sergeant. " She whispered, before snatching the combat knife off the table and slipping out the door like a dream. 

His hand drifted on its own accord to rub the spot where her lips touched his skin. 

He groaned as he realized what he was doing. Silently reprimanding himself, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed out, past the cots and fellow soldiers, keeping his eyes forward. He had a job to do. They were in the middle of a war for Christ's sake. He should not be acting like some schoolboy. 

If the skin that had been graced by her lips felt like a seal on his jawline, no one else needed to know that. 

*****

Anna helped Nurse Harris patch up a soldier who had gotten his foot crushed as best as they could. She worried they would have to amputate it but for the moment, it was bandaged as well as possible and he was finally sleeping, the morphine having fully kicked in. 

She tended to the few other men laying on cots, making sure they all had water, no one was in major pain and they were as comfortable as possible. The last rays of sun peered through the windows, a display of reds, oranges and yellows coating the inside of the field hospital. 

As she moved about, the strange yet comforting feel of the combat knife strapped to her calf was her companion. And with the feeling of it, her thoughts continuously drifted to the Staff Sergeant who gave it to her. 

What had she been thinking to kiss him? Even if it was meant innocently and as a thank you. Stupid, so stupid. It was too late now to change it. For all she knew, she would never see him again. He could die in the fight tomorrow and she would never know. 

The thought of his death sent a sharp stab to her heart.

Only in her own mind would she easily admit how attractive she found the man to be. When he held her behind him, an arm around her to protect and shield her from Doctor Erickson; his touch had knocked the air out of her lungs more than the slap from the doctor ever could. 

"Nurse Cooper." 

Anna looked up as Nurse Falk walked towards her. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Come with me."

Nerves came alight with those three words. Whatever this was, it could not be good. Anna set down the clean bandages she had been rolling to store away and followed the matronly nurse towards the back. 

In the kitchen, Nurse Falk quickly moved to shut the doors, even going so far to draw the curtains over the solitary window. The only light came from the small fire in the fireplace. 

This could not be good. Was Doctor Erickson sending her away? Oh God, what was she going to do?

Nurse Falk had never been one for physical touch. So when she came and grabbed Anna's hands, holding them between their bodies, Anna could feel tears gathering in her eyes. 

This was bad. 

"Ya know 'bout that mission tomorrow?"

Anna could only nod. Her throat felt swollen, questions threatening to choke her. 

"Captain Evans asked for some additional medical support. He's plannin' on settin' up a small aid station there. Says there's civilians and he's worried 'bout extra casualties."

_No._

"Besides their usual medics, they asked for any spare medics we have…"

_No, please, no._

"...but Doctor Erickson gave 'im ya name. Since ya speak both German and French, it would help with them civilians, and ya would be seen as less intimidatin' than a soldier if they be needin' a translator. I'm sorry."

So, this was Doctor Erickson's final revenge. To this day she still questioned what she had done to cause him to hate her so much. Since the beginning, he treated her like shit on his boot. Now he was offering her up as a sacrificial lamb. 

"When...when do we leave?"

"Oh seven hundred. Ya be ridin' in a truck with Medic Hunter...do ya need help packin'?"

She shook her head, cursing the tears that slipped down her cheeks. 

"A'right. Go pack and rest while ya can. We'll find ya some new clothes too. I'll come get ya in the mornin'." She squeezed Anna's hands once more before stepping away. 

In a daze, Anna felt her feet moving but did not remember telling them to. Up the stairs she went to the small bedroom she shared with two other nurses. She sat on her cot, mind numb and lacking the energy to do anything. 

She was being sent away. To the real front lines. Alone. A single woman alone in a company of soldiers. She knew Medic Hunter; he seemed a good man. She had gotten used to the chaotic, draining life of working in a field hospital. She had been doing it for a year now. At least she was around other women, a few she would even call friends. 

Tomorrow all that would be gone. 

Slowly, she curled up on her bed and silently let the tears fall unaided. She was tired. So bone-deep tired of this war. Of seeing young men dead or maimed. Of constantly being dirty with grime and blood. Of remembering what spilled intestines looked like more than her childhood home. 

She always tried to convince herself that it would get better, tomorrow would be better. It was a habit she had picked up from her mother, trying to always be positive, to see the best in everyone. 

For the first time, she did not even try to pretend that tomorrow would be better. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry its taken so long to update. The past few weeks have been been rough. Here we are though! Yay! I have the next chapter written so soon as I finish editing it, I’ll post! 
> 
> If you wanna chat, come over and say hi to me on tumblr @mrsalwayswrite

Don kept his eyes peeled as Fury drove slowly through the small French town. Infantry had already swept through, eliminating most of the German resistance. Now the tanks were following behind, a second wave of force. So far, they had not heard anything that gave indication of Tigers or Panthers but those Nazi bastards were sneaky. Everyone remained on alert. 

He glanced behind him, the three other tanks following loyally into the subdued firefight. Around them, gunshots were infrequently heard, German stragglers and snipers being taken out. Bodies of Allied soldiers and Nazis were scattered around the town. All in all, it was a fairly mild fight. Don had certainly lived through worse battles with far greater casualties. 

As they passed through the middle of the town, a flutter of curtains to his left caught his attention. His head swiveled, ready to see a sniper rifle. Instead, white curtains fluttered in the breeze of the open window and the wrinkled face of an elderly woman peeked out, watching them silently. 

"Omma!" He called out, hoping she spoke German. They were right on the German border so he figured there was a chance. "Irgendwelche Panzer in der Nähe?" (Any tanks around?)

Her eyes scanned around before meeting his again and shaking her head slowly. 

He gave a single nod in thanks before speaking into the comms. "Alright fellas, I don't think there are any tanks. Stay alert though. Let's stop here and see where the Captain wants us. Wait for further command."

Fury rolled to a stop along with the three tanks behind them, taking up the center of the town. In another life, the town would have been vibrant with life. Although it seemed to have missed major destruction. The buildings and homes were all still standing without gaping holes or roofs missing. Perhaps since it was so small, it was deemed less important to the Nazis. Lucky for the civilians. 

Climbing out of the tank, Don leapt to the solid ground below. He passed the tanks as he walked back to the edge of town, knowing the Captain waited on the outskirts. He caught sight of a lieutenant for the infantry and changed direction. The lieutenant was a large man with a thick jaw and deep-set eyes. A long scar cutting across his eyebrow made Don wonder if prior to the war he was a professional boxer or just prone to bar fights. 

The lieutenant pulled out a carton of cigarettes, popping one between his lips, standing in front of a small church. When he noticed Don approaching, he held out the carton silently. 

"Thanks." Don took one, quickly lighting in and taking a drag. "You boys have any casualties?"

"At least four. Few others wounded. Not bad." His voice was rough with a thick New York accent.

"Not bad." He repeated absent-mindedly, looking over the town. Things were already settling down. 

A jeep drove up, parking right in front of them with Captain Evans stepping out. "Good work. I want a perimeter around the town for the night. Lieutenant Diggs, chose two squads of men. Sergeant Collier, have Fury and another tank take those men out about three miles to guard the roads leading in, and if you see any retreating Nazis...fucking shoot them. I don't want them coming back."

"Yes, sir." Both them walked away, ready to follow their orders. 

"Davis!" Don shouted as he got closer to the line of tanks. "You and Mary Sue follow me. We gotta escort some boys out to the perimeter. Peterson, Binkowski, you each park at an entrance to the town. Let’s roadblock and keep an eye out."

Confirmation shouts followed him as he climbed back up Fury. Only after he settled in his seat did he give the signal to move. 

An hour later Fury and Mary Sue returned from their assignment. Don had them parked each at a main entrance to the town near the others. Luckily for them, there were only two roads leading in and out. Two tanks at each entrance seemed intimidating enough and easy to monitor. 

Finally settled, he turned his comms off so he could talk to his crew. "Alright, you know what to do. If everything doesn't go to shit, let's hope we can sleep indoors again tonight."

They all clambered out of the tank, breathing in the smoky yet fresh air. Soldiers were walking around following orders or just trying to find somewhere to rest. A few civilians wandered amidst the soldiers, their clothing a beacon amongst the dirty uniforms. The few young women received particular attention and gifts of cigarettes and chocolates. Gordo and Grady would be joining those vying for the women's attention soon. Don could only wish them luck. 

Stalking through the town, he headed back to the church figuring that was most likely where the Captain was. What he saw standing before the church almost made him stumble. 

Almost. 

Captain Evans stood there along with two other soldiers and a middle-aged man dressed in a cassock. He must be the local priest. What startled Don was the petite red-head standing with the group, head swiveling back and forth as she spoke. 

For fuck’s sake...what was she doing here? 

"...back into Germany. Only a few were left behind." She said, her soft voice an auditory balm to Don's ear to offset the rough, crude voices war surrounded him with. 

"Right. Anything else he can tell us?" Captain Evans asked, arms crossed over his chest. He noticed Don approaching and gave him a small nod but kept focused on Anna and the priest. 

She spoke quickly in French to the Father, who replied back, pushing the glasses back up his flattened nose. While they talked, Don watched her. Her auburn hair was tied back in its bun, a few strands caressing her face. This time she was wearing a gray nurse's uniform instead of the dingy white one he had seen her in prior, the red cross on her sleeve still pointedly visible. Her hands gripped her white apron loosely but bloody stains showed brightly. Had she already been working on the wounded? Did they not have any medics? 

"He is...most pleased your men liberated the town. No one living here wanted them. They took everything. If there is anything they can do, they want to help." She said after a moment, looking over at the Captain. "He...he did say there was a building on further down the road that they used frequently and the townsfolk were not allowed in. Those that did, never came back."

"Mmm...tell him I want him to show us this building." Captain Evans stated then looked at the two lieutenants with him. "Lieutenant Cox, get a squad and go check it out. I doubt there's a damn thing there anymore but maybe the Krauts finally left us something." 

The lieutenant nodded and waited for Anna to finish speaking with the priest then followed him away. 

Captain Evans looked down at her. "Nurse Cooper, that'll be all. If I need you again to translate, I'll send for you. I'm sure Medic Hunter would appreciate your help again, eh?"

"Yes, sir." After a quick glance, meeting Don's eyes, she turned and headed inside the church. Once the door opened, the sound of groans filtered out only to be abruptly cut off when the door shut. 

"Everything set with your guys?"

It took Don a moment to realize he was being spoken too. "Yeah, perimeter is set. We'll block the roads so we know what's coming in and out."

"You think someone here might run and warn the Krauts?"

"We're close to the border. Someone may have been left as a spy."

He ran a hand through his greying beard. "Fuck. I hate this shit. Keep your tanks there. Let's get some men to monitor the town. Go on, find some food while you're at it." 

"Sir." Don started to turn and walk away but a pair of weary, blue eyes and soft voice crossing his mind stopped him. He turned, seeing the captain and lieutenant walking in the opposite direction, and ran a hand through his hair. Later he would berate himself over his actions. Right now, he needed to know. 

Without thinking further, he turned on his heel and pushed open the door to the church. A heavy weight hung in the air, either the hand of God or the presence of wounded men in pain, Don was not sure. Sunlight streamed through the large glass window above the pulpit, yet it only penetrated so far to push back the dimness that clung eagerly to the sides of the main room. The smell of blood, sweat and piss assaulted him and he wondered how anyone could work continuously in this. Yet it was the scent of war. Hopefully one day it would no longer follow him like a second shadow. 

His eyes scanned the room before landing on the person he was looking for. Boots pounded on the wooden floor as he walked her way, ignoring the two other medics and several patients spread around the room. Only at the last minute did she turn from counting supplies on a table to look at him. 

"What are you doing here?" He barked out, harsher than he meant to. 

She recoiled from him, taking a hesitant step back, blue sapphire eyes wide and mouth dropped slightly. 

Well now he felt like an asshole. He ran a dirty hand through his hair. "Why aren't you back at the field hospital? It's not safe for you to be here."

"Believe me,” she sighed, staring at the bandage in her hands, “this isn't where I planned on being. Captain Evans needed another medic and translator, so Doctor Erickson sent me."

He nodded slowly, unsure what to say. 

"Is there something you need, Sergeant?" 

"Where are you sleeping?"

She glanced around the church then shrugged, going back to her counting. 

"No," he gripped her upper arm and spun her around to face him fully, "it's not safe here for you. The men have already started drinking and there isn't enough local girls to go around. I don't want them coming and looking for you here."

"I don't have anywhere else.” She snapped, tugging her arm trying to get it from his grip but unsuccessful. She huffed when realizing he was not letting go, then met his gaze. “Why do you care?"

Why did he care? That was the question he had been asking himself too. He should not care, she meant nothing to him. That thought sat like acid in his gut though. 

Slowly, he released her arm, dropping his hand back down to his side. He continued to hold her gaze, wondering what it was about this nurse that prevented him from staying away. 

"Everything alright here?" 

Don looked up at the medic walking towards them out of a side door. He had a short beard with thick, unruly, mop of black hair on his head. 

"Yeah, Joe. Everything is fine. Thank you." She chirped, not moving closer or further from Don. 

The medic's eyes slid over Don, evaluating. "Something you need, Sergeant? Otherwise Nurse Cooper needs to get back to work."

Don held the medic's brown eyes for a moment. He knew from an outside perspective this looked bad. He had not meant to frighten or harm Anna, he just...what did he want? He turned his head down to stare at the petite red-head with eyes like sapphires. He wanted her safe. There was something within him that needed her safe. It made no rational sense. He barely knew her. Yet that did not silence the yearning in his chest. 

"I'll send Boyd to come get you later." He stated, then turned, his feet moving with determined steps so he could escape the church as fast as possible. 

Why did it matter? Why did she matter? He had seen other nurses before. Hell, he had been engaged before. This churning in his gut told him to protect her. And if anything war had taught him, it was not to ignore those gut feelings. 

*****

There were only a handful of men wounded and thankfully none in a critical state. One of the younger Privates had tripped over his own boots during the assault on the town and landed on his face, somehow breaking his nose and scraping his face up. Overall, it could have been far worse. 

Anna sat down next to the cot of a Private, a bullet having gone through his leg. Luckily it missed the bone but still left a good-sized hole that took a long time to clean up and stitch. He asked her to hold his hand until the morphine kicked in. No one else was demanding her attention so she gave in, holding the Private's hand who could not be any older than herself. With him finally asleep, she leaned her head back against the wall of the church, closing her eyes. 

Sleep called to her but she ignored it. There was too much to do. For a peaceful moment though, she could rest. Just for a moment. 

"You alright there, Anna?" Joe Hunter asked, standing at the end of the make-shift bed. 

She rapidly blinked her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? "Yeah, I'm fine." Carefully, she released the Private's hand, he only stirred slightly in his morphine-induced sleep, and stood up. She stretched, her back popping at the motion, before moving to stand next to Joe. 

He was one of the few medics, she had met, who treated nurses with respect and did not ogle them as soon as their backs were turned. Once she asked him about it and was treated to the story of how he met his wife and now she was the only one he looked at like that. No one else could compare to her beauty. From that point on, Anna and Joe had been friends, however much that was possible with a war going on and his company being sent out. 

"You need to sleep soon."

She shook her head, even as a yawn split her face in half. "I'm good, for a while longer." 

"We can handle this." He vaguely gestured to the other medics camped out in the church. As she made no further move, he rolled his eyes then guided her towards the back of the church where they had set up their own personal items. "Arthur is finding food for us currently. You need to sleep... and not a nap holding an wounded boy's hand."

"Mmm…" She could feel her face warm up at being caught sleeping. 

The front door opened and they both turned to see who was coming in this late. To her surprise, Boyd walked towards them, hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face. 

"Something we can do for you?" Joe asked, eyeing the newcomer. 

"Evening, yeah, I've come to fetch Anna."

Joe's dark eyebrows rose, his gaze bouncing between Anna and Boyd. "This have something to do with that 

Sergeant?"

"Boyd, it's ok." She smiled back at him. "Please thank Don for me but I need to stay here to help."

"No, Don wants you with us. Says it's safer for you."

"Boyd… I…"

"You swear to me no one is going to touch her." Joe interrupted, glaring at the gunner. His arms were crossed over his chest, eyebrows furrowed. 

Boyd nodded. "I'd swear on the Lord's Good Book if you like. I won't let no one hurt her."

"Good. You make sure she sleeps, you hear?" The lead medic turned to look at Anna's shocked face. "Me and the others will trade off."

"But I'm not tired…" 

He laughed. "Your mouth says that but your eyelids keep drooping. Get some sleep. You can relieve me in the morning. Now get."

She just stared at him, unsure why he was kicking her out. Deep down, she knew she was just nervous to follow Boyd. It felt safer, at least to her, to stay with the field medics and their patients in the church. 

Joe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before staring at her, lowering his voice. "You ain't been around for this part after a fight we've won. You've been in a field hospital with other nurses and doctors, security in a sense. Now I'm sure the men have already started drinking and there will be some looking for female company. If the Sergeant's plan is to hide you away till mornin', I agree. I'd planned on keeping a close eye on you tonight but this might be better for everyone. Seems you got more friends than just me here, Anna."

"If...if you're sure." 

"Go rest. You look like you ain't slept in a week."

She rolled her eyes, swatting at him. "You sure know how to compliment a girl, Joe."

"I'm a little outta practice." He winked then waved her off, heading towards one of the patients who had begun moving in his sleep. 

Quickly she grabbed her bag with her few personal items in it then followed Boyd out of the church. She had not realized how late it had become. The sun had disappeared, only the last traces of the sunset still giving color to the sky. The moon and few early stars twinkled above. Soldiers and a few civilians walked about but most were off the streets. One of the men they passed called over to her, his voice slurring just enough, but when Boyd pulled her close to his side, the man swore and wandered away. 

"Um, so...you and the medic… you two...ah…"

In the faint light she glanced up at Boyd, wondering where he was going with this. "We're just friends. He has a wife back home."

"Oh, good." He coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "That's good."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "do you have… someone?"

She stopped on the side of the street, too tired to try and figure out what he was getting at and why. "What are you asking?"

"Doesn't matter. Come on."

"No, no." She moved in front of him, blocking his way to put a finger on his chest. "Why are you asking me this, Boyd?"

Looking down for a moment, he shoved his hands in his pockets again before looking at her. "Do I need to worry about someone seeing me put my arm around you, to keep those drunks away, and get the wrong idea then try and shoot me? If so, I'd prefer to know now. I've heard getting shot hurts like hell itself."

When his words sunk in, she threw back her head and laughed. Christ, how long had it been since she laughed like this? During training? Before D-Day? Before her world was covered in blood and guts and men screaming for their mothers? She could see Boyd chuckling too but most likely at her reaction. 

"Come on." She slipped her arm through his, wondering why she was so comfortable with him as they started walking again. "No, no husband or fiancé."

"Uh huh. So, no one is going to shoot me?"

"Not on my account. Watch out for those Nazis though."

He bumped her slightly, making her stumble. "Smart-ass."

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you." She quipped back. 

They arrived at a small cottage on the main street. She did not get a good look before Boyd pushed her through the door, then again, most of the houses looked similar. 

Immediately the smell of fresh bread hit her like a punch to the gut. Saliva filled her mouth at the smell alone. When was the last time she had fresh baked bread? It certainly was before she was sent to the front lines. Only minimal lights were on but a lovely fire lit up the fireplace creating a homey feel. It was a balm to her soul. 

"Evening."

His voice reminded her she was not alone. Opening her eyes, when had she closed them?, she saw the crew from Fury sprawled around the small living room watching her. 

"Good evening." She replied to Don, aware of everyone's eyes on her. 

His eyes roamed over her before he nodded and gestured to an open arm chair. "Sit. She said dinner should be ready soon."

She did as bid, slipping onto the cushioned seat. It felt like heaven to get off her feet. Between helping Joe and the other medics with the wounded at the church and being a translator for the Captain, it felt like she had been running non-stop all day. She watched the fire, vaguely listening to two of the guys teach the youngest one how to "properly" play poker. Don heckled from the side, sitting in his own cushioned arm chair and smoking. Boyd took a seat near her, shaking his head at the antics of the other before pulling out a book and reading. She assumed it was a Bible since he said he read it often. 

Not long after, an elderly woman emerged from the kitchen saying dinner was ready. The group moved to the dining table, squeezing in to all fit. Anna sat between Norman and their hostess, happily munching on the fresh bread and devouring the warm, thin soup. She quietly spoke to the woman in French, surprising their hostess who beamed and bombarded her with questions and her own stories. The others asked questions for Anna to translate but mostly left the women alone. After eating, Anna tried to help clean up but was roughly pushed back to the living room with strict orders to rest. 

Too tired and belly full to fight it, she eased back into the arm chair, watching the fire and listening to those around her. Before she knew it, her eyes drifted closed and sleep overtook her. 

*****

Don subtly watched her as she fought sleep, her eyes drifting shut before she snapped them open. Finally, she gave in, her hands tucked under her cheek, curled up impossibly small in the chair. The light from the fire danced over her hair, making it appear a deep red and highlighting the paleness of her skin with the few freckles across her nose and cheeks. 

"She's single, you know."

He ignored Boyd's whisper. It did not matter if she was. She was sweet and innocent, the brightest star among the dark night. Once during dinner, the elderly lady had said something, those two whispering back and forth in French, that made Anna begin laughing so hard she covered her face to try and suppress it. He would have given anything to know what made her laugh like that… and try to recreate it. A snort escaped her during the laughing and he found it adorable. Only through sheer willpower did he keep a smile from his own lips, even if he could see small smiles on the others' faces. 

His initial reason for having her stay with them was just to keep her safe. Now though, she brought a light with her that made him feel human again. It did not go unnoticed how her presence affected the others too. Their shoulders were not sagged so much, their voices not as vile nor complaints as loud. 

"You can ignore me all you want." Boyd continued whispering, sitting next to his commander and friend, as he openly watched her sleep. "I see how you look at her."

"You're just seeing things."

"Am I?"

Don rubbed a hand over his face, the day's events catching up to him. He needed some shut-eye. Norman was already passed out on the floor, a spare blanket covering him. One of the other rooms had Grady and Gordo in it, both squeezed onto two small single beds. But it was a bed. The hostess had her room, having bid them goodnight after dinner. The last room Don had said was for Anna. It was supposed to be for him but when he saw the room with its lace curtains and flowery bedspread, his mind had gone to Anna. 

"Should we just leave her there?" Boyd asked. 

"No… I'll get her." Before Boyd could make another smart remark, Don walked over and gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He had expected her to wake up with the movement but to his surprise, all she did was roll her head to lay against his shoulder, releasing a deep sigh. Continuing to ignore his smugly grinning gunner, he walked to the open room and carefully set her on the bed, pulling the bedspread over her. 

"S'right?" She murmured, voice thick with sleep, her eyes not even open. 

"Shhh… go to sleep." He lightly stroked her cheek, aware of how intimate the touch was only after his actions. 

"Mmm…" 

He waited a moment before a soft snore drifted from her. He needed to leave. Yet watching her with the moonlight peeking through the lace curtains, he could not help but wonder why she was single. She was beautiful, sweet and kind. Any man would be lucky to have her. His mind drifted to an image of him carrying her to bed like he just had but instead of leaving her, he crawled in beside her, pulling her close in their bed in their home. Away from war. The only bloodshed they witnessed was from an accident. The only gunshots heard were from if he decided to go hunting. Peace would surround them like a warm blanket. 

He shook the image away before it could sink its tendrils too deeply into his mind. He was not a good man. He would never deserve someone like her. He had a woman once and he would always carry her death on his soul. 

Quietly, he closed the door behind him, leaving her and his thoughts behind. Lighting a cigarette, he stepped outside, hoping the cool air would settle his nerves. He needed to focus on keeping his crew alive, on surviving this goddamn war. If he kept an eye on her, made sure she was safe and taken care of, that was just him adding her to his crew. Same thing he would do for his men. That was all it would be. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you wondering when our beloved Easy boys are coming into play... this chapter gives a hint and as to where they are in their journey.   
> Also, italics means character is speaking in French.

Anna woke before the sun and slipped out of the cottage before anyone else was awake. Even through the lingering exhaustion that had taken up permanency in her bones, her mind was used to field hospital hours and Nurse Falk's timeliness. So in the still quiet hours, she hurried towards the church. 

Although she would like to say she was surprised, she really was not to see Medic Hunter awake and checking on the few patients they had. 

"Did you sleep at all, Joe?" She whispered, not wishing to disturb those still sleeping. 

"Some." He shrugged, keeping his own voice low. "Figured I could get caught up once you came back. Everything alright? They treat you well."

"Yes. I even got to sleep in a real bed."

He gave a low whistle as they moved towards the back and away from the patients. "Lucky duck."

"How are they? Do we know when they will be evacuated?"

"Not yet. I'll talk to Captain Evans today. Private Harris has a low fever now, I'm worried about infection."

"I'll watch him today. Go sleep, I can handle this."

"Thanks, wake up Arthur if you need anything. The other medics are staying in the building next door." Joe said, squeezing her shoulder. Quietly, he walked towards a side door which led to a private room that they had taken over from the local priest.

With a sigh, she let down her hair and ran her fingers through it, attempting to get all the knots and tangles out. What she would give for a glorious bath. Quickly, she twisted the long strands and pulled it back into her usual bun on the back of her head. 

"Nurse…" a voice croaked out in the gloom. 

And with that, she went back to work. 

That day flew by as she and the other medics worked tirelessly on helping their patients, especially as throughout the day, Private Harris' fever worsened. At one point she was called away to help translate for Captain Evans, conversing with the local priest once again. As night fell, her movements were weary-laden and mind sluggish but she persevered. 

She knelt by Private Harris, dabbing a cool, wet cloth on his forehead when the main door opened to the church. At the moment, her patient began coughing so she paid no mind to the newcomer and focused on soothing the young man before her. She could hear quiet talking and knew one of the other medics was dealing with the newcomer. 

"Nurse Cooper?"

She looked behind her. "Norman?" Standing up, her eyes scanned him with worry as he slowly approached. "Are you alright? Are you injured?"

"No, no. Um, Boyd sent me… and well Don too. They are finishing up and said to meet them back at the house." 

"Oh? Well, let me… do you mind waiting a couple minutes? I need to tell Joe, see if there is anything else I need to do first."

He smiled that endearing boyish grin, so full of sweet innocence even amidst a bloody war. "I'll wait by the door."

"Thank you." She watched him walk away and then headed to where Joe sipped some water, leaning against a table covered in medical supplies. 

"Heading out?" 

She nodded, hands fiddling with her uniform. "Anything else I can do first?"

He shook his head. "No, get outta here. An aid truck is coming tomorrow to pick up the wounded. Rumor is we're heading out early tomorrow for the next town."

She sighed. She should not be surprised but for some reason it still caught her off guard how quickly they would just up and move, leave the wounded and killed and move on. Only to repeat the process all over again. This was war. Something she had to frequently remind herself. She still hated it. 

"Ok, I'll be here to help load the wounded." She started towards the main door but turned on her heel to look at Joe again. "And don't forget to write to your wife. You can send the letter with the medics. Nurse Falk would forward it." 

"Yeah, yeah. Don't you forget to write too."

She smiled and met Norman at the door. Together they headed out, down the steps of the church and towards the cottage they had stayed at the night before. 

After a couple of minutes, she broke the silence between them. The question had been dwelling in the back of her mind. He looked so much younger than the others. "How old are you, Norman?"

"Eighteen."

"And how did you end up on Fury? Did you go to tank school?"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "No. I was supposed to be a clerk, a typist. That's what I went to school for."

"Oh! How did…."

"They lost their bow gunner. The army pulled me off the bus and told me to report to Don."

"I'm sorry. I'm guessing it wasn't easy."

"No, no it wasn't. At first I hated them, especially Don. He made me sh… well, it doesn't matter now."

"What?" Curiosity tugged at her as she glanced at the young soldier by her side. 

He inhaled sharply then the words poured out like water, begging to be released. "He forced me to shoot a Nazi in the back. Wrapped my hand around the gun and forced me to pull the trigger. Said he was teaching me to do my job. I never wanted this. I didn't want to kill people. I was drafted. I just…" he seemed to suddenly realize all he confessed and slammed his mouth shut. 

She stopped walking on the side of the street, ignoring the other soldiers and locals. Her heart broke for this young man who had been thrust into a situation he never wanted to be in, who was forced to do things he had never imagined for himself. How true was that for most of the other soldiers she interacted with daily. 

"Norman, my mother always said that a hug can't take away the pain but it can help remind you that you're not alone. So, can I give you a hug?"

That seemed to startle him. His eyes widened, mouth opened slightly as he froze, standing next to her. Hesitantly he looked around before finally meeting her eyes. She could see it behind the surprise in his gaze, that raw vulnerability, the desperate need for physical contact that was more than a slap on the back from a crew member. 

"Oh, come here." She took the initiative, not waiting for a verbal response, and wrapped her arms around him. After an awkward second, he put his arms around her, returning the hug. She was only a couple inches shorter than him, but the way he clung to her, it felt like a child clinging to an older sibling for comfort. The feeling brought tears to her eyes. It had been some time since she gave or received a hug like this and she may have selfishly held him longer than necessary. A couple moments later, they released one another. Norman took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck once again. 

"See, that wasn't bad."

His cheeks turned pink at her comment but he nodded his head, a small smile on his face. 

They finished walking to the cottage in companionable silence. She wrapped her arms around herself, the night's air sleeping through her few layers to bring a chill to her bones. The worst of winter might be over but it was by no means warm yet. Or at least warm enough for her taste. 

On the street, it was obvious a war was going on. Between the soldiers and tanks, the random splattering of blood from dead men that waited to be washed away with the next rain, it could not be mistaken for anything else. Inside the cottage, it felt like the eye of a hurricane or an oasis in the desert. Everything was still pristine, clean and orderly. Black and white photos on the walls, cushioned chairs, a basket for knitting in the corner of the room, a small stack of books on a side table. It was odd walking into such a domestic scene after seeing the evidence of war just outside. 

_"Odette!"_ She called out in French after she and Norman walked into the cottage and headed towards the kitchen. _"It smells like heaven in here!"_

_"Anna, dear, you are too good to this old woman."_ The elderly woman chuckled, stirring a large pot over the stove. Even though her hair was gray, wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and she shuffled when she walked, her mind and tongue were sharp as a tack still. _"The cassoulet is all done, just keeping it warm for the young men."_

_"They should be here soon I believe."_

_"Why don't you go sit down until then? Mmm, you must be exhausted, I tell you nurses never are able to put up their feet for a minute. Was the same with the last war and now this one."_

_"Yes ma'am, you let me know if there is something I can do."_ Anna let her hair down, massaging the back of her neck, hoping to relieve the tension slowly building up there. She could hear the door open and headed back out to the common room to let them know dinner was ready. 

When she came around the corner, Norman was sitting down near the fireplace with a book in his lap. Instead of the rest of the crew it was just Gordo and Grady making their way in. Gordo dropped down onto a different chair, immediately putting his feet up on an adjacent chair, uncaring of the mud his boots trekked in. 

Grady's eyes landed on her, the weight of them making her freeze. "Looky whose still here, boys!" He barked a rough laugh that made her wince. 

"Leave her alone." Norman said. 

"Leave her alone." Grady mimicked at Norman before sweeping his eyes back to her. "You sucking his cock too, just like Boyd's?" 

"Wha… what?" She stuttered out but he did not seem to really expect an answer. 

He prowled towards her, each footstep landing loudly in the cottage. "Not gonna share with the rest of us? Huh? Just them pretty boys?"

The way his eyes raked over her made her shiver but not in a good way. She backed up a few steps but found herself bumping into the edge of the doorway. 

"Grady!" Norman rose to his feet, book still in hand. Gordo just sat there watching the drama unfold before him, fiddling with the gold chain necklace he wore.

Grady turned to face the younger man, pointing a finger. "You stay outta this."

When his back was turned, Anna reached under her uniform dress and pulled out the combat knife Don had given her back at the field hospital, what felt like ages ago. She had hoped she would never have to use it… especially against one of his own crew. She held the knife just in front of her at chest level. Surprisingly her hand was steady, even if the rest of her felt like she was trembling. 

"Ohhh, better watch out. Kitty's got claws." Gordo teased, still making no move to get involved. 

Grady turned back to her and seeing the knife, his smile grew. "What you gonna do, little girl? Gonna stab me? Huh? That's it?"

She said nothing, just watched and waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Odette watching, frail hands gripping her apron until her knuckles were white. 

Grady took one more step closer, almost as if waiting to see what she would do; like a predator toying with its prey one last time before pouncing. 

The front door opened; boots sounded on the hard floor. Anna and Grady's eyes remained locked even as the tension in the room increased with the new occupants witnessing the scene before them. 

"Someone want to explain what the fuck is going on?" Sergeant Collier stated, anger bubbling just under the surface of his cool tone. 

Grady retreated back a step, turning to face his commanding officer. "Nothin', Don. Just having some fun." 

"Fun, huh? Then why's she got a goddamn knife out?" 

"Anna…" Boyd started to walk towards her. 

Before he could reach her, Odette shuffled in and wrapped an arm around Anna's shoulders, glaring at the men in the room. _"Come on, dear."_

Without a word, she tore her eyes away from Grady and followed their hostess down the short hallway to the guest bedroom she had stayed in the previous night. The whole time she kept the knife in hand. Soon as they walked away, she could hear the raised voices coming from the common room. 

"What's the problem?! She's just some girl." Grady spoke first, an almost laugh to his voice as if this was all some joke. 

"She's not some girl. She's a goddamn nurse! Show some respect."

"Oh? She sucking your cock too, huh, Don?"

"Get out!" Don yelled. "If you're gonna act like a dog then I'll treat you like one and you can sleep outside."

"You're gonna choose that bitch over your own crew?" 

"Get the fuck out or so help me God I will shoot you right now and sleep like a baby tonight!" 

Silence… then the front door opened and slammed shut, rattling even the painting on the wall in the far back guest room. 

Anna dropped the knife on the ground and placed the hand over her mouth, the first hot tear rolling down her cheek. It had been a mistake coming here. She should have stayed at the church with Joe. Even then, she knew she was not fully safe. She should have stayed back at the field hospital, back with the other nurses who looked out for each other. She should have stayed home and never signed up for the Nurse Corps. 

A knock on the bedroom door jolted her, making her flinch. Odette looked at her, arm still around her shoulders. 

"Anna?"

The elderly lady made no move towards the door. Silently she continued to stare at Anna but raised an eyebrow in question. The nurse nodded, not looking up from her hands laying limply in her lap. As Odette walked the couple steps to the closed bedroom door, Anna tried to brush away the evidence of her tears on her dirty sleeves, wondering when all those tears escaped. 

Boyd stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. "May I come in?"

She looked up, holding his gaze for a moment, then nodded and glanced at Odette. _"Thank you."_

_"If you need me, I am just a call away."_ She shuffled back down the hallway, giving Boyd a long look before disappearing. 

"I'm so sorry, Anna." He finally said, sounding far more weary than she had ever heard from him. He had only stepped into the room but made no further movement. "I told you you'd be safe here and then Grady…"

"It's not your fault, Boyd." She said after his words drifted off. Her eyes dropped back to her lap, hands picking at her fingernails. 

"Feels like it. I should have come get you instead of Norman. Shit. I reckon you want to head back to the church instead of staying here? Can't really blame you there if you do."

"I don't know honestly. Nowhere is safe for me."

"Well if it helps, Don kicked Grady out, though I assume you heard that. So, if you stay, you'll be safe here tonight. Don won't let nothing happen to you. Me neither. I suspect Norman feels the same way. He looked like he was ready to take a swing at Grady himself." When she did not respond, he finally moved to sit next to her on the bed. "Grady, he… war changes folks in ways they'd never guess."

"I know." 

They sat in silence for several moments. 

Boyd reached down and picked the knife off the floor near her feet where she had dropped it. "Did Don give you this?"

"Mmm? Yeah." She gingerly took it back from him then narrowed her eyes at his smug look. "Why?"

He shrugged, looking like the cat that caught the canary. "Nothin'."

Her eyes drifted to his hands again and noticed the bandage wrapped around his hand. Guilt flooded her at the sight. Her day felt so chaotic, she had completely forgotten to check his laceration. "I'm sorry, I haven't checked your hand today."

"S'fine. Gordo rebandaged it for me this mornin'. You can look at it tomorrow. Sides, ain't that bad no more. You got worse patients I reckon back at the church."

"Still… I want to make sure you're alright."

"Thank you, Anna. Tomorrow, you can." He stood up and turned sideways to look down at her. "You wanna come out and eat?"

"No… I'm not hungry. I'm… I'm just going to go to sleep."

"Alright. Good night, Anna. You make sure to eat in the mornin' then. You need to eat regularly."

"I will. Good night, Boyd."

Soon as he shut the door behind him, she curled up on the bed. She laid there for some time, allowing the stray tears to finally fall, no longer strong enough to keep containing them. She was thankful no one interrupted and they just allowed her peace. The stillness in the room felt like a haven. She could hear the others occasionally but there was no longer shouting. 

Normally she would fall asleep but right now her emotions were rolling, keeping her from relaxing. Carefully she slid to the side of the bed and grabbed her personal bag. After a minute she pulled out her worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. She smiled faintly thinking about the many nights her mother would read it to her before tucking her in for bed. Then when she got older, it became her favorite book to read over and over to herself. It was one of only a few possessions she still had that traveled with her from home. She cracked it open to where her bookmark was. For a second, she traced her finger over the beloved words, pretending she was home in her bedroom and the only things she had to worry about were her university applications. She lay curled on her side, allowing the words to drift over her skin and mind, a soothing balm for her nerves. 

Once it became too dark to make out the words, she closed the book and replaced it in her bag. Slowly she sat up, rubbing her eyes. The house had been quiet for some time now. She guessed by this point everyone was asleep. Slipping off the bed, she headed out of the bedroom door. Although she was still not hungry, her throat felt parched. Between the crying and many hours of reading, it had been far too long since she had a drink. Carefully she moved towards the kitchen. She could make out the forms of Norman sleeping on the floor and Gordo on a chair, head tilted back and snoring. 

Using the pitcher left on the counter, she filled a cup up with the water and drank it. It immediately soothed her throat and she sipped more slowly on a second glass. She stared outside the window above the sink, a full moon shone through. Suddenly the strong urge to bask in its light filled her and she acted on instinct. She set the cup down and swiftly moved towards the back door, opening it as quietly as she could as to not wake the cottage's sleeping occupants. 

The full moon shone brightly in the cloudless sky, the stars twinkling alongside it like thousands of diamonds in the sky. War could ravage the earth until all that remained was smoke and barren ground, but it could never touch the heavens. There was something comforting about that fact. The beauty and majesty of the heavens could never be tainted by human hands. 

She stood there, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to ward off the chill of the night air as she looked upward. A gentle breeze made her hair, still unbound, sway around her. 

It was not until the smell of cigarette smoke hit her, did she pay any attention to her surroundings. With a gasp, she scanned the immediate area and finally noticed a tall form standing just a few feet away, the burning end of a cigarette almost a beacon in the surrounding darkness. 

"Oh! I didn't think anyone else would be out here. I'm so sorry to interrupt." 

"S'alright." Sergeant Collier said, still more of a hidden shadow than recognizable form. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's my own fault. I should have paid better attention." She looked back up skyward, lamenting the fact she should head back in and try to get some sleep before tomorrow. 

"I'm sorry about earlier." He stated bluntly. "It won't happen again. I swear." 

"Thank you." She whispered, twisting her fingers together, trying to force back the wave of nervousness. "Um, can I …" she gestured towards him. 

Somehow, he understood her vague gesture. He pushed off the wood pile he had been leaning against and came to stand next to her. Silently, he handed his cigarette over. She could feel his eyes on her as she put it to her lips and inhaled. Immediately she began coughing, eyes watering, as the smoke stung her lungs. 

He chuckled as she handed the cigarette back. "Not a smoker?"

"No." She coughed out. "No, I've tried but I can never get used to it."

"Probably better for you." He exhaled, the smoke drifting away and into the sky. 

They stood there silently, side by side. Anna could not help but notice how much taller he was than her. He had to be around six feet tall with her only coming up to him mid-chest. In the moonlight, his strong features appeared softer, less intimidating. 

Though the memory of Norman's story from earlier came to mind. How this man next to her forced his newest crew member, someone who was still practically a child, to kill a Nazi point-blank in the back. That fact alone should scare her. The inhumanity of it. But then she was reminded of how he defended her earlier from someone else in his crew. Even how he looked out for her by giving her a knife when he barely knew her. It made no sense. Why was he looking out for her? She was no one to him. Her mind struggled to put the two facets of the man together in her mind. 

"You going to be out here much longer?" He broke the silence, still staring forward.

"Um, maybe a few more minutes."

He nodded, tossing his spent cigarette to the ground. To her surprise, he slipped his leather jacket off and dropped it over her shoulders. 

"What? Oh no, it’s-"

"Doll, I can see you shivering. You can give it back in the morning."

She huffed but could not suppress the small smile on her face, almost amused how easily he saw through her blatant lie. It was chilly out here but peaceful, and she needed some more of the quiet tranquility before going back inside. "Thank you, Sergeant Collier."

"You can call me Don."

"Then you have to call me Anna."

His lips twitched in what she thought was a smile, but she was unsure with the shadows. "Alright. Night, Anna." He turned and stepped inside, the door shutting with a soft click. 

It was a long moment before she turned back around to stare up at the sky. She slipped her arms in the sleeves, hugging the jacket closer to her, surprised by how warm it was. It smelled strongly of cigarettes, sweat and something distinctly male. The stench should offend her, she doubted it had been washed anytime recently, but instead she found herself burying her nose into it. It was huge on her shorter form, but it brought a feeling of comfort, like when a child wears something of their parent's clothing, pretending to be grown up. 

He was an enigma to her. Someone she knew was dangerous but protectively loyal. What scared her the most though was when he called her the pet name, it woke up a swarm of butterflies in her belly. 

*****

The sunrise just peeked over the wooded horizon. Another day of war. Another day to try and survive. Another day to hope your crew survived. Another day to wonder why the Nazis did not just give up. 

Fuck 'em all. 

Don brushed past the infantry soldiers running around, trying to find their platoons or looking last minute for one of their guys probably off sleeping somewhere. He headed towards where the tanks were waiting on the edge of the little town. 

"What's the news, boss?" Binkowski asked, as Don approached the other three tank commanders. They stood several paces away from the tanks, clearly having been waiting for him to return with orders. 

"Right. We're heading out…"

"No shit." The big blond deadpanned. The others glared at him. "What?"

"One of these days, I'm going to shoot you." Don stated, only half-serious. He found he enjoyed the blond's dry humor. Binkowski was also the man to jump first into a fight, which either made him quite brave or incredibly stupid. Don had not determined which quality it was yet. 

"Nah, you'd miss me too much."

"Like a hole in the head." Davis muttered, a frown on his ever-stoic face. 

They all chuckled but then grew serious again when Don started speaking. 

"Right. Intel says Krauts are drawing back into Germany. We've been requested by a battalion of paratroops to help them hold the area near Haguenau, so that's where we are headed, boys. Captain Evans and his boys will continue on past and link up with another company set to push into Germany."

"Paratroopers?" Peterson questioned, dropping his cigarette on the ground. 

"Yeah, those idiots that decided to jump out of plans, go behind enemy lines, all that shit." Binkowski explained, with a short bark of sarcastic laughter. "Must think they're something special."

"Why don't you ask them when we get there?" 

"Alright, here's the lineup- Fury, Murder Inc, Lucy Sue and Old Phyliss. Evans wants us in the front so we can peel off when we reach the main road to Haguenau. Should take a couple of days to get there." Don said. 

The other three nodded or grunted their affirmative. 

"Good, mount up!" 

Everyone headed to their tanks, crew jumping into their positions and turning on their comms. Don headed to Fury but slowed his steps when he saw Grady standing in front of the tank with Boyd by his side. Gordo and Norman had their heads popped out of their holes watching. 

With a sigh, he moved closer. He knew Boyd would not let this go. In all honesty, it was probably better to get this dealt with now instead of letting it fester like an infected wound. His crew did not need bad blood between one another. They would never survive if they did not trust each other. Grady refused to meet his gaze as Don stood in front of his gunner and mechanic.

"She's not some whore you can rough up. She's a good girl."

Grady rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "I know, Don. I didn't mean nothin' by it."

"You still scared her good." Boyd said quietly, hands in his pockets. "Should apologize to her."

Grady nodded, staring at his feet. 

"You better or I'll kick your ass."

The mechanic looked up at the gunner, a smirk on his face. "Kick my ass, huh? You sweet on her or something?"

Boyd rolled his eyes. "No, I ain't, and you know it. She reminds me of my little sister."

Gordo chirped up, chuckling in his seat. "She's too pretty to look like your little sister, if your sister looks anything like you."

"Shut up, Gordo."

The crew clambered up into their positions, the tension dispelled. 

Don stood on his seat, surveying around. The slight shifting of movement brought a fresh wave of scent that was not his own. Somehow underneath the grime, there was the faintest hint of something that reminded him of lilacs. Turning his head, he sniffed at the collar of his jacket and was hit by the scent once again. It had been the most pleasurable torture since he put the jacket on that morning. He had found it resting on the back of one of the chairs in the common room when he stumbled out of the second guest bedroom. 

The scent brought him back to the prior night and watching the little, redheaded nurse staring at the night sky with a soft smile on her face. Bathed in the moonlight she looked like an angel to him. After he had gone inside, he had stood at the sink, looking out the window above it for a couple minutes watching her. Alone, he allowed a smile on his face when he noticed her burying herself in his jacket. It had been a spur of the moment decision to give her his jacket and now he was wondering if he regretted the action or loved it. Her scent lingered with him, just like her. 

He looked around once more, most of the men in position. He could not help but look towards the back of the company where the medic truck was located. Where she was. 


	6. Chapter 6

For two days they traveled, leaving the little French town behind and making their way to Haguenau. It was slow moving since the majority of the infantrymen had to walk. A few rode on the sides of the tanks but when bickering about who got to ride started up, Don, with the backing of Captain Evans, called off the option. There were two vehicles for officers and a small truck for medical supplies and food. 

Don was pleased that Anna had a spot on the truck and was not forced to walk. The dark-haired, lead medic seemed to be watching out for her. That first night they stopped to make camp, Boyd had wandered to the back of the long line to get Anna and have her stay close to him for the night. The lead medic and Boyd ended up in an argument, ending with Anna staying at the back, sleeping in the truck. Boyd stomped back to Fury and was grouchy the rest of the night. Don understood though. It was better to keep her hidden away than parading her through the long line of lonely men. He never said anything but once everyone was settled, he took a leisurely stroll to check on his new tank platoon and check in with the Captain. If he happened to stop near the supply truck to look and make sure Anna was safe and being looked after, he would never admit it out loud. He never approached, just watched subtly from a safe distance as he finished a cigarette. 

The next night he repeated the process, pleased she seemed to be alright. Even if Boyd was still grumpy. Who knew how much longer they would see her? She was supposed to be traveling onward with Captain Evans and his company, while the tanks headed in a different direction. It was foolish to get attached. She meant nothing to them. Just another nurse. Yet that tasted like a tainted lie on his tongue. 

Currently, Don stood in his spot on the tank, scanning the thick forest they were traveling through. The density of the trees blocked out part of the sun. Although it had been quiet the past few days, all the men able to slightly relax…. today felt different. The further they traveled, the more his nerves felt alight. Something itched in the back of his mind. There was something that demanded he pay attention. Only a few other times had this feeling consumed him, and it never ended well. Without looking, he could feel a slight shaking in his hands. No, whatever was coming, it never ended peacefully. His eyes continued to scan, ignoring the teasing of his crew members in lieu of trying to look behind every tree. Perhaps this time they could all make it out alive.

"Don?" 

The tank commander did not even turn his head from eyeing the cobbled road ahead. 

Boyd's tone turned from amused to serious in a heartbeat. "You got a feelin'?" 

"Yep."

"Fuck." Grady swore, having been reclined on the tank but now sat up straight, his own gaze moving furiously around for the enemy. 

"Gordo, hold up here." Don said into his comms. "All tanks hold up." As the tanks screeched to a stop, he pulled out his binoculars, trying to see through the trees as to what had him so on edge. 

The revving of an engine preceded one of the jeeps pulling up next to Fury. "Why have we stopped, Sergeant Collier?" Captain Evans asked, thick eyebrows furrowed into almost a single line. 

What was Don supposed to say? Something doesn't feel right? His gut was screaming that something was wrong but he was unsure what exactly it was? He lacked any kind of proof. 

He answered after a moment. "Captain, permission for some of your men to scout ahead." 

The grizzled man stared at him. "Something you know, Don?"

"No, sir, just a feeling. The road has been smooth up till now. Then there up ahead, it gets real bumpy. Just wondering if those are from erosion or some goddamn land mines." 

"Mmm...good eye, son. Lieutenant Diggs, send some men to check it out!"

Yells and commands filled the air before a squad creeped past the tanks, rifles up and eyes wary. 

Don slid over, placing his hands on the .50-inch machine gun with a firm grip. Only now did some of his nerves settle. He always felt better when there was a weapon in his hand or nearby.

"What's going on, Wardaddy?" Sounded over the comms from Binkowski. For once the man was not joking, the tension heavy in the air around them. 

"Eyes and ears open, boys." He replied, still scanning the surrounding tree line. Hopefully this was just his paranoia. The familiar sound of Boyd's voice softly praying floated up from the inside of the tank. 

For a split second he wondered if there was a firefight up ahead, what would Anna do? Was she expected to run in the mayhem like the medics or to stay back and work triage? His fingers gripped the machine gun a little tighter before he forced the thoughts away. Now was not the time to think about it. 

The squad cautiously walked ahead of the company and tanks, moving close to thirty feet before one stopped and stared down at the bulge in the cobbled road. He quietly said something to one of his squad mates then tapped the bulge with the end of his rifle. 

Only to be blown up in an explosion of dirt, stones and flames. Those nearby were thrown back violently from the shockwave of the explosion. One screamed as he laid on the ground, cradling his head. 

Everything happened in an instant. The forest was still, not even the birds chirped or trees groaned to provide ambient noise. Then the explosion. In the next second, machine gun fire started, bullets flying through the air towards the column of Allied soldiers. Screams, commands and general mayhem ensued. 

*****

When the column stopped for whatever reason, Anna practically begged Joe to let her out to stretch her legs. For the past two days she had pretty much been confined to the supply truck, both in traveling and then sleeping at night. At this point she was ready to scream. Finally, Joe relented but stayed in the driver's seat while she bounded out of the truck with all the exuberance of a retriever puppy and wandered to the side of the road. The other medics walked up ahead with some of the men. For a moment she could pretend she was alone and not surrounded by smelly men. She stared out at the surrounding forest, thinking how beautiful it was. She was always biased towards forests though. They reminded her of home. Running amongst the trees, jumping small creeks, trekking mud into the house when she finally got back home, much to her mother's chagrin. The imagination of the innocent. 

A loud boom and explosion startled her and she swung her head to face the front of the troop column. She had heard soldiers talk about land mines before. She had worked on plenty that had received terrible wounds or missing limbs from them. 

Never before had she seen one in real life. 

The power in it both amazed and terrified her. Before she could decide which emotion was stronger, the sounds of screams and gunfire ended the peaceful silence. She turned to run back to the truck, back to Joe, to find out what to do next. Having never been in a battle before, she had no idea what to do. Panic creeped up her limbs, threatening to drop her to the ground in terror and self-preservation, but she valiantly tried to ignore it. She could see Joe getting out of the truck, medic satchel hanging on him, ready to go. Locking eyes with her, he took two steps closer and opened his mouth. A loud boom drowned out the words he said, followed by the front of the truck bursting into flames. The force of the explosion threw her back, making her stumble to try and catch herself but ultimately fall flat onto her back. 

The sounds around her suddenly sounded muffled, like thick cotton balls were in her ears. Her vision felt hazy and the sharp tang of iron filled her mouth. Groaning, but unable to hear the sound, she rolled onto her side and spit the blood out of her mouth, some dribbling down her chin. 

She looked around her environment, unable to fully register what she was seeing. She wondered if this was one of Dante's circles of hell. The supply truck resembled an inferno, flames trying to touch the sky. Bodies lay on the ground already, unmoving. Others spread out, shooting into the forest surrounding them. 

Slowly she sat up, hand on her head as the sounds around her began to register. Gunfire. Screams. Yelling. Chaos. A tree snapping and crashing to the ground. She glanced around only for her eyes to land on an unmoving form on the ground. Joe's eyes open but blank. Blood spilled out from underneath him. Smoke curled in the air just above his back. 

Immediately, she began crawling over to him. 

*****

Fucking ambush. Damn cocksuckers were lying in wait. All Don could figure was somehow word from the town they just left got to the Nazis. They were lucky though, there had not been any tigers or panthers. Only infantry, the worst being some bazookas. 

"Boyd, you see that giant ass rock on our ten o'clock. Make sure there ain't nothing hiding back there."

"On one!" The gunner yelled followed by a loud boom from their 75mm gun. 

A short scream echoed in the forest after the shot. 

Don surveyed around, hands still gripping the machine gun. The infantrymen were scattered around now that most of the fighting was done. They were checking to make sure the dead Krauts were really dead and there was not any still hiding in the forest. 

"That's it?" Peterson asked over the comms. 

"Don't jinx us." Davis retorted. 

"Keep a sharp eye. There might still be some hiding. We'll wait for the Captain to call it." Don responded over the comms. Not even trying to be discreet, he turned around to look at the supply truck still ablaze at the end of the column. His stomach dropped at the sight. He had heard the shot, seen the fire consuming the vehicle. All he could hope was that by some miracle she was not in that truck. That she had escaped the flames. Or if she had not, at least death came for her quickly.

"Fuck." He whispered, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Then he pounded on the side of the tank. "Boyd, get up here and cover for me."

"What's going on, Don?" Boyd asked, head popping up out of the gunner's hole. He pushed himself out to take Don's spot but froze, eyes transfixed to the back of the column. 

"Stay here."

"Don, no I need-"

"Stay here." Don commanded, already seeing the way Boyd's eyes were glassy and his breathing was becoming erratic. He softened his tone when he spoke next. "I'm gonna go check. You don't… you don't want to see that."

Boyd held his gaze for a long moment then nodded, swallowing thickly. He placed his hands on the machine gun but Don could see the tremble in them. 

Don turned his comms off, ignoring the questioning looks from the other tank commanders as he stalked by without looking at them. His gaze remained at the back of the column. He was doing this for Boyd. At least that's what he kept telling himself. 

With a single-minded purpose, he stormed down the road, closer and closer to what had once been the supply truck but was now a bonfire. His eyes systematically scanned the surrounding area, desperate to see auburn hair, deep blue eyes and slender frame in a dirty nurse's uniform. 

Bodies lay scattered around, blood seeping out from various spots. As he walked closer, he noticed in particular one body near the flaming truck. Black hair, medic badge on his arm. It was the lead medic who looked out for Anna. Don recognized that he had been the one driving the truck the past two days. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He spun around in a circle. Nothing. There was no sign of her. He placed his hands on his hips and sighed. For a brief moment he allowed the grief to touch him, a sharp ache filling his heart. Even though he had not known her long, somehow she had wormed her way into the circle of those he felt responsible for. Her presence was a blinding light amongst the darkness of war, a splash of color in a world of gray. And now, she was gone. She should have stayed at the field hospital. At least it was safer there. Damn that arrogant doctor. If Don ever crossed paths with him again, he would not hold back from punching that asshole in the face… and then letting Boyd have a turn at him. 

Then the moment passed and he doused the grief till his heart was dead and cold once again. He needed to tell Boyd. Heading back towards the tanks, a different medic darted in front of him, running towards the nearby line of trees. His blue eyes followed without meaning to. The medic dropped onto his knees, wrapping his arm around the shoulder of a soldier sitting on the ground. A large bandage wrapped around his thigh. As the two stood up, Don noticed a third, much shorter person on the other side of the soldier, trying to help get him on his feet. Messy, red hair, gray nurse's uniform. 

His heart began to beat wildly, the shaking of his hands he had not even noticed subsided. It felt like he could take a deep breath without pain shooting through his chest. 

Don changed direction, feet eating up the ground beneath as he stormed over to them. As he got closer, he called out. "Anna!" 

Her head whipped around to meet his gaze. A look of relief crossed her face as she quickly scanned him. His heart clenched. An unexpected warmth forced away the coldness lining his heart at her relieved look but he shoved that feeling aside. She made a comment to the medic, who slowly walked away with the wounded man, leaving her standing there. 

"Don, are you alright? Is anyone hurt?" Her soft voice soothed the last of his worries for her. 

"They're fine. I just…. I saw the truck get hit."

She nodded once, eyes dropping to her hands as she wrung them tightly. "I, ah, I stepped away... just before to stretch my legs." 

He grunted an affirmation, now finally taking the time to really look her over. There were fresh blood stains on her dress and hands, multiple small tears in the fabric. A large chunk of her hair's bun hung limply down her back like someone had yanked on it. "Are you injured?"

She shook her head. "I'm…" her breath hitched for a moment but she continued. "I'm fine."

Suddenly, a soldier not too far away collapsed, a hole right through his forehead. A second later another soldier collapsed followed by a gunshot ringing out. 

"SNIPER!!" 

Without thinking, Don grabbed the nurse and threw her roughly to the ground, covering her with his body in the next instant. He looked around, seeing the soldiers that had once been casually strolling around now trying to find cover somewhere. 

"Don…"

He glanced down at the whimper of his name. "It's going to be alright. Trust me, yeah?"

"I trust you."

That single statement slammed into him like getting hit by a semi-truck. The fear evident in her sapphire eyes but the firm line of her mouth, her pinched lips. Before he found himself gazing at her anymore, he tore his eyes away. If he was going to make sure she survived, he needed to be alert, not distracted by her overwhelming trust and beauty. He was damn well going to make sure she survived this. He could feel one of her hands gripping the front of his jacket. His body hovered over her, arms caging her to the ground beneath him that in any other situation would have been the stuff of dreams. He could feel her breath on his neck as he swiveled his head around repeatedly. Unable to stop himself, his eyes drifted back down to her face, only inches away from his. Their gazes locked and he swore in that moment he felt something within him shift. Those wide eyes held him with absolute trust and for the briefest of seconds it seemed they flickered down to his lips then back up to meet his own icy gaze. 

It was then several loud booms shook the forest. He whipped his head up to see the tanks all lighting up a particular section of the forest, completely decimating it under their firepower. 

Silence hung heavy over the forest as everyone waited to see if anyone could possibly survive that. 

"ALL CLEAR!" 

After a hesitation, Don jumped to his feet, noticing others around easing back out of their own hiding spots. He extended a hand downward, slightly surprised when Anna took it, and helped her to her feet. Her hand was so small compared to his. Soft compared to his rough calloused hand. The realization the two of them were just standing there, still holding hands almost knocked the breath out of him. Quickly he dropped her hand, eyes surveying around them before landing on her again. 

"Come on, let's get to Fury. You'll wait there."

"No. I can't." She said, voice shaky but filled with resolve. 

"What?" The word came out as a harsh back unintentionally. For the life of him he could not fathom what she meant. Why couldn't she wait at Fury? For Christ's sake, it was far safer there than anywhere else currently. 

"I have to do my job." 

Her statement sunk into his mind and he had to refrain from a groan of annoyance. Of course, she would still want to help. Their stares met, both unyielding. Even though she only reached his mid chest and he could easily physically force her compliance, he found himself in awe of her quiet strength. Even through everything she just witnessed, she still wanted to do her job, to help others. It was an admirable trait but damn if he wished for a moment she was more selfish. 

"Fuck." He ran a hand through his hair, looking around before staring back down at her unrelenting gaze. "Alright, but after you come find us. You hear? I don't care what the other medics say or anyone fucking else. You're traveling with my crew from now on. If anyone says otherwise, you send them to me. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." 

"Get to work." She started to walk past him but he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm. "Anna, be careful."

A sweet smile warmed her face, something so outlandish in their current situation that it almost felt wrong to gaze at it but Don could not tear his eyes away. "You too." She whispered, reaching up to squeeze his hand on her arm. When he released her, she started walking back to the road without hesitation. 

He watched her walk away, her pace quickening when she noticed a soldier carefully guiding his friend back towards the road. 

"Fuck." He muttered to himself. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hurried back towards Fury. 

*****

Her feet only propelled her forward through sheer willpower alone. Night had fallen over the company and everyone was bedding down to wait for dawn. The medic satchel bounced against her hip. Each time she moved and felt it jostle, a sharp stab of pain reminded her that the satchel was not hers. She had taken it off Joe's still warm body. With the truck and all its supplies destroyed, they had to make due with what was in the satchels. Twenty-two dead. Another eighteen wounded. A couple of them she was unsure if they would survive the night due to their lack of medicinal supplies. 

She approached the four tanks still parked on the road. 

"Nurse Cooper!" 

She turned to her left at the call, surprised to see Don standing near a small fire with a few others. Her tired feet stilled as he approached, cigarette hanging between his lips. A small flutter of butterflies danced in her stomach as he walked towards her. If she was not so tired and numb, those same butterflies would be threatening to explode out of her. 

Even through treating the wounded and helping the other medics, her mind continuously slipped back to during the attack when Don protected her. As he practically laid on top of her, she found herself staring at him, eyes tracing the scars on his face, the shape of his lips, the vivid blue of his eyes. However much she had tried to suppress the feelings, here and now, she did not even try to deny it. She was attracted to him. Far more than she had been with any other man before. It was more than that though. With him, she felt safe. Protected. 

He stopped just in front of her, his eyes scanned her before he spoke. "What happened to your dress?"

She glanced down at her ruined uniform, the hem of her dress now a ragged, ugly cut at her knees. "We ran out of bandages. My uniform was the only viable, clean option."

"Mmm." After a moment, he slipped his leather jacket off and dropped it over her shoulders. "Boyd and the others are just on the other side of Fury. Go sit with them. Make sure Norman gets you a blanket."

Soon as the weight and warmth of his jacket enveloped her, she could not help but burrow into it. She had not realized how the cold clung to her until there was something to combat it. "Thank you." She murmured, staring up at him. 

He nodded, looking over her once more then started back towards the other men as she headed towards the lead tank. A few of the men stared at her as she walked past but she was too exhausted to care. Perhaps they could see the exhaustion she carried like a blanket over her shoulders or Don's jacket was enough to deter them from calling out to her. Either way, she was grateful. When she came around the side of the tank, she could see the four other crew members relaxing near its drive wheel, both Grady and Boyd actually leaning against it. 

When they noticed her, Boyd jumped to his feet. "Anna!" He immediately came to her side and pulled her into a quick, tight hug. She reciprocated, placing her head on his chest as she took several deep breaths. After a long moment, he released her but only enough to sling an arm over her shoulder. "You alright?"

She nodded. Even though she felt the furthest thing from alright. 

It must have shown on her face because Boyd gave her another quick side hug then softly said, "Come on then. Let's sit down."

Silently, she followed him over to the drive wheel, taking a seat next to him, tugging Don's jacket tighter around her. The night's air now seeped through her mental fog to remind her of how cold she actually was. 

"What happened to your dress?" 

Her head jerked up, surprised by Gordo's question. He sat across from her, head tilted to the side as if trying to puzzle out what happened. "Ah, we ran out of bandages." She had not realized how much of her legs showed until she sat down. She tried to tuck her legs under her but there was only so much fabric left. 

"Norm, there's an extra blanket next to my seat." Gordo said, looking over at the youngest crew member. 

Norman immediately jumped up, scurrying away without another word. They sat in silence for several seconds before Grady spoke up this time. 

"This your first fight?"

She startled at his gravelly voice, meeting his eyes hesitantly for a second before staring at her lap and nodding. 

"Shit."

"You need to eat somethin'." Boyd whispered to her. 

"I'm fine."

"Anna…"

"It's fine. I'm just… I'm just tired."

Norman came back with an army issue, coarse blanket. She thanked him softly and tucked it around her legs. Between Don's jacket and the blanket, the night's chill was tolerable. All the events of the day, all the pain and death she had witnessed, seemed to suddenly coalesce and hang off her like chains threatening to forever weigh her down. Too tired physically and emotionally to care, she scooted closer to Boyd and laid her head on his shoulder. 

"He's dead." She whispered to herself, only to reaffirm the truth even as her mind fought desperately to deny it. She had touched his body, seen the light no longer in his eyes, his blood staining the ground beneath him. Yet a childish side of her hoped it was all a fever dream. 

Boyd looked down at her. "Huh? You say somethin'?"

"He's dead." Her cheeks felt wet and she wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, surprised to realize she was silently crying. Her breath hitched as she remembered. For the rest of her days, she doubted she would ever be able to forget. "Joe… the lead medic… when the truck got hit… if I hadn't gotten out to stretch my legs…"

"S'right. His number came up, that's all. Nothin' you can do about it." Boyd wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "Try and get some sleep."

She tucked her face into the leather jacket, wrapping her arms around herself. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks as she closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was hide from the pain and death, even just for a little while. Just pretend that the dried blood on her hands was red paint. As if sensing her emotions, Boyd pulled her tighter against him, silently offering his support. Greedily, she accepted. 

This was her job. This was war. But sometimes, it was just too much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we are FINALLY meeting up with Easy!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet Easy Company!!

The morning arrived with a slight fog, bringing a sense of otherworldliness with it. As if ghosts stood along the tree line just watching and waiting in complete silence. Everyone moved with shifty feet and wary eyes, voices staying low. The starting of engines only exasperated the stillness around them. It had been decided, with so many men killed and wounded in the company, the whole group would travel to Haguenau. From there the wounded could be evacuated to a hospital and hopefully replacements sent for those lost. 

Anna wandered around the tanks, checking in with the other medics and just trying to stay warm. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to keep the wintery cold at bay. A coat taken off a soldier, who no longer needed it, now covered her filthy nurse’s uniform. She tried not to think about wearing a dead man's coat, rather imaging it was a spare. Her legs were still exposed to the elements from the knees down to her short uniform boots, making it impossible to fully warm up as she walked around. 

"Mount up! Let's go!" The call echoed around from several different mouths, stilling the nervous restlessness hanging over the company. 

The wounded were placed on the tanks to ride since they did not have a truck to transport them anymore. Besides the officers and those in the armored division, all the foot soldiers were forced to continue walking. Not a perfect solution but it was all they afford to do right now. Hopefully they could escape another surprise attack. 

Ignoring those around her, she made her way towards Fury. Both to keep an eye on the wounded laying or sitting on the tank but to also stick close to the tank's crew. She had woken up that morning, still huddled against Boyd's side, wrapped in Don's leather jacket and the spare blanket from Gordo. They shared what breakfast they could with her before she had to head off and start rounds. Medic Arthur Christianson had taken over lead medic from Joe Hunter. A blow they all felt but this was war and you just learned to keep moving. The two other medics had been courteous enough to her from the beginning so it was not too much of a hardship to work with them. 

Each medic had chosen a tank to walk next to and keep an eye on its wounded. She had immediately claimed Fury. 

"Anna!" 

Looking up, she noticed Boyd staring down at her from his spot on the tank. 

"What you doin' down there?"

She glanced around then stared back at him. "Walking." She stated with a casual shrug, not understanding what he was getting at. 

Grady chuckled from his spot next to Boyd. Smoke curled around his mouth as he exhaled, the cigarette still between his teeth. 

Boyd rolled his eyes with a deadpan expression. "I see that. Thank you. Why ain't you riding?"

"Only wounded are riding. I'm fine, Boyd. I don't mind walking." She tried to assure him, a small smile on her face. Hopefully that masked how cold she actually was and the agitated nerves humming throughout her body. She walked a little further towards the front of the tank. Fury only carried five wounded, spread out along its sides. Stopping at a young soldier with a bandage around his head, she touched his leg to gain his attention. "How are you feeling?"

The brunet opened his eyes, looking down at her from where he reclined on the tank. A shy smile crossed his lips. "My head ain't spinnin' like it was."

"That's good. Let me know if that changes." Patting his leg, she smiled back at him. The young soldier was one she was particularly concerned about. During the initial explosion, he had been thrown back and landed hard on his head, getting knocked unconscious during the process. Eventually he woke back up but with a bloody head wound. 

Tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear, she adjusted Joe’s- no, her medic’s satchel across her body. Her heart clenched slightly at the reminder. Her own personal bag had been in the supply truck, now a pile of ash. Her few extra clothing items, her beloved book from home, the few letters she had from her family and friends along with what little money she had been holding onto, all gone. All destroyed in the fire that raged throughout the night as it consumed the supply truck. It hurt more than she thought it would. It was just stuff, but it had helped ground her, remind her of home. Without it, her soul felt slightly adrift. Even as she tried to convince herself it was just stuff, that it was replaceable, that twenty-two men died while she still drew breathe…. she still missed her belongings. 

"Hey, dollface. Nice legs you got there."

She pretended to not hear the comment from the lanky soldier sitting on the tank, bandage around his calf. She remembered him. A bullet ricochet hit his calf but he screamed like his guts were being ripped out, then he threatened one of the other medics until he received morphine. 

"Ah, c'mon, smile. I just gave you a compliment." He called after her, a sleazy smirk on his face. 

"Hey, shut up." Boyd demanded, having turned to glare at the offending soldier. 

The arrogant soldier looked over his shoulder at Boyd as if surprised to be called out. "What? Like you can't see them." He snickered, continuing to leer at the nurse. 

Anna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Unfortunately, she was used to men like that by now. Even if she hated dealing with them. She had a job to do though. War did not care if the men it wounded were good or bad, kind-hearted or arrogant, gentle or dangerous- it took them all. Her job was to save as many as she could from War's grasp. To allow as many men as she could to return to their families one day. 

She turned slightly to meet the eyes of the lanky soldier. "Is there something you need, soldier?"

"Aren't you going to check on me, darling?" He winked at her. 

In a sudden flurry of movement, Grady roughly shoved the soldier off the tank without preamble. The soldier screamed as he hit the ground, landing on his hurt leg. The sound echoed in the air, bouncing off anything nearby as if to gain momentum in volume. Everyone nearby jumped at the sound, eyes locked on the soldier swearing and rolling on the ground. Anna stared in horror and confusion, a hand over her rapidly beating heart, unsure if she should intervene or stay to the side. Her answer came in the next moment as Grady hopped off the tank to stand between the soldier and Anna. 

The soldier screamed, grabbing at his leg as he rocked on the ground. "What the fuck was that for?! Christ, I'm wounded, you asshole!" 

"Yeah, shut the hell up." Grady said, just staring down at the soldier. He turned to look at Anna but never turned his back completely on the soldier. "You good?"

She nodded mutely, beyond surprised and made quite speechless by Grady's actions. 

"Coon-Ass! What's going on here?" Don stormed towards them, cigarette hanging from his lips and fire in his eyes. 

"Nothin', Don. He started talking shit 'bout Anna. I shut him up." Grady shrugged, staring at his commander. A silent understanding seemed to pass between the two. Don gave a curt nod and only after that did he even acknowledge the man on the ground. 

"You his Sergeant?!" The soldier was yelling, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "He pushed me off the goddamn tank! He can't do that!" 

"Yeah? Well, sounds like you fucking deserved it." Don pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing the smoke out. His eyes quickly shifted to Anna to scan her quickly before dropping back down to the soldier. 

"Cause I complimented the fucking nurse? You know what, fuck you! And fuck the bitch!" 

Don whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the downed soldier. Every sound ceased. The air froze. No one moved. Tension radiated from the scene. It felt with one wrong move, one wrong sound, Don would shoot. Even the wounded man stared in horror and rage at the pistol aimed at him. Everyone waited to see what Don would do. Anna covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that if she even peeped, Don would shoot the man on accident. When Don spoke next, Anna had never heard him sound so cold, it physically sent shivers down her spine.

"I highly suggest you shut that big mouth of yours before I put fucking hole in your other leg." 

If looks could kill, the soldier would have killed the tank commander twice over with the lethal glare he leveled at Don; but he wisely kept his mouth shut. The two stared at each other, almost willing the other to say something and set them both off like ticking time bombs. 

After several tense moments, Don was the first to rip his gaze away and look over at Anna. Without a word, he beckoned her over with his hand. Worried and a little intimidated, she hurried over to stand between him and Grady. 

"Anna, up you go now." The tank commander stated, nodding towards Fury, the threatening tone not quite fully leached from his voice yet. 

"Wha… oh, no, I'm ok, Don. I promise."

Those intense eyes bored into hers, immediately stopping any further excuses from passing her lips. "I can see you shaking like a leaf from the cold. I won't ask you again."

"She can take my spot with Bible." Grady said to Don, looking over her head. "Keep her warmer."

"Good. C'mon then."

Next thing she knew, she was being manhandled by Don. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and set her onto the tank, where Boyd took her hand and slipped her into the gunner's spot with him. Her legs immediately felt marginally warmer as they were no longer bared to the cold elements. 

Don climbed up to his spot, just on her left. None of the other soldiers, wounded or walking, would meet his gaze as he scanned over those nearby. As if just a shared glance would unleash his terrible ire onto them. 

"I could have gotten up by myself." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced over at him. 

His hands stilled from placing the helmet on his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. "Whatever you say, doll." He winked quickly at her then looked forward, tapping a hand on his comms to speak. "Alright, let's move out."

After that the tank jerked forward, Boyd had reached over to help keep her upright. Once settled, she tucked her face into her coat; not because of the cold, but in hopes no one would notice the blush on her cheeks. Butterflies danced in her stomach and it took her mentally berating herself to keep the stupid, giddy smile off her face. A simple wink should not have this much of an effect on her. Her mind decided to remind her of how it felt to have his hands on her and how easily he lifted her. That thought made her face heat up even more. 

To distract herself, she peeked over her shoulder to see Grady sitting just behind her on the tank, watching the tree line with his mouth slightly open. 

Although she still felt somewhat tense around Grady, he no longer looked at her as if she was a piece of meat to be ogled. She had noticed it the prior night as she joined the Fury crew and fell asleep leaning against Boyd. Followed by his strange actions today, she could not help but wonder what changed… if whatever occurred between him and Don in the French town had more of an effect than she realized. Maybe he was not such a bad man after all? Giving people second chances was something her mother preached and Anna found herself trying to do. Maybe now was a perfect example?

Those on Fury rode silently for several miles, just watching the surroundings. Her thoughts turned dark, wondering if she should write Joe Hunter's wife. Obviously his wife would receive a condolence letter from the army but maybe it would help if she received a personal letter too from someone who worked with him? Who knew him and how devoted he was to her? Then again, she did not want his wife to misread her letter somehow and think Anna and Joe had an affair and now Anna was writing a letter out of guilt? Would someone do that? Or would they keep quiet about it? Her thoughts bounced around in her mind like ping pong balls, constantly moving but never actually in a helpful way. 

"Where you from, Anna?"

"Mmm?" Boyd's sudden question drew her from her inner musings. She lifted her head to look at him from staring at her nails as she picked at them. It took her an embarrassingly long moment of him staring at her with his eyebrows raised for his question to sink it. Heat filled her cheeks but she hoped it was not too noticeable. "Oh, sorry. I grew up in South Carolina but my family moved to Virginia, so that's where we lived the last few years. What about you?"

He hummed, shifting slightly. "Missouri."

"I've never been there. Do you miss it?"

"I reckon. I miss the people there more, ya know?"

Don cut in, still staring a head. "What he means is, he misses his girl."

Her eyes widened and her head moved so fast from looking at Don on her left side to staring at Boyd on her right, she almost gave herself whiplash. "You have a sweetheart?"

"Yeah." He shrugged casually as if it was not a big deal but the small smile on his lips and the light in his eyes betrayed him. 

"And you haven't told me this?! You were getting on my case about seeing if I had one and this whole time you did!" She smack his chest lightly, making him flinch while Don and Grady laughed. "What's her name?"

"Sarah Grace." His eyes softened even just saying her name. "Prettiest woman on God's good earth, I swear."

She smiled at the fondness in his tone. 

"We was gonna marry but then the war broke out and I felt called to join up. So she's waitin’ for me. When we get back, I'll start seminary and we'll get married."

"If she's still waiting and not married someone else."

Boyd narrowed his eyes at the mechanic behind Anna. "Grady, you just tryin' to get me riled up. It won't work. I know she'll wait."

"Maybe she done run off with someone already." Grady countered, a smirk on his face. 

"I just received a letter from her last month. You know that."

"That was last month…"

"I swear, Grady, if you don't-"

"Alright, alright. Knock it off." Don said, grinning. It was obvious this was a continuous argument but was born out of teasing than any true malice. Boyd mumbled something under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well I think it's sweet, Boyd. I'm happy for you." She bumped his shoulder, erasing the scowl on his face. In a split second decision, she looked behind her at Grady. Second chances, she told herself. "Where are you from?" 

Initially, he seemed startled that she would ask him but quickly hid the surprise with his usual indifference. "California."

She turned to Don next. "And you?"

"Kentucky."

It felt like she had to physically tear her eyes away from his or else she would be trapped in them. There was an intensity in them that balanced on the edge of exhilarating and terrifying. All it took was a small breeze to push him one way or another. So far she had only seen the kind and protective side of him. Now though, after he pulled the gun on the wounded man, she had seen a brutal side. It reminded her of when Norman mentioned about when he first met Don. Now she could see it, what Don had forced Norman to do. It sent a chill down her spine. People were forced to commit terrible crimes all the time during war. Was this side of Don because of war or just something that lurked under the surface continuously? She found herself worried about the answer. 

Boyd interrupted her thoughts, continuing the conversation. "Gordo there is from Texas. Norman is from Pennsylvania."

"Y'all are from all over the place." 

"Yep, all it took was Hitler startin’ a war for us to meet."

They all chuckled but grew quiet again at the sobering thought. 

Anna could not help but think about where she would be right now if she had not joined the Nurse Corps. She had hoped to go to college and become a teacher. It was not glamorous but the very thought of it brought a smile to her face. Much to society's chagrin, she wanted more from life than to just marry the first man that came around and start having his babies. But it did not matter now. She was not even on the same continent of her birth. 

She pushed back the thoughts of before and focused on those around her. The smell of cigarettes from the soldiers surrounding her. The chill in the air that clung to her without reprieve. The sight of what should have been a beautiful forest but set her on edge, expecting another surprise attack. She could not focus on what she was missing out on. War happened. And she answered the call. Even if it had been to get away from her own sins and ruined reputation. 

*****

The next afternoon, the company and tanks rolled into Haguenau. Snow dusted everything that had not been trampled yet. The air hung heavy with fatigue and despair. Supposedly the Allies were winning the war, but with the looks on the faces around… you would not suspect that. The sound of a mortar slamming into the ground up ahead made Anna flinch. She could not help but wonder what kind of new hell she had been taken too. 

"Let's park in the rear. Don't need those Krauts aiming for our tanks." Don said over the comms. 

When the tanks stopped, everything ground to a halt around them, followed by Captain Evans pulling up in his jeep. "Sergeant Collier! You'll come with me. Let's find out who's running this shit show."

"Yes, sir!"

Anna slid off the side of the tank, careful of her cold, bare legs. Instead of riding that day with Boyd, she had instead elected to ride next to a young soldier who had been shot in the shoulder. Tears slipping down his cheeks but the soldier never made a sound. The whole ride she held his hand on his uninjured side. Occasionally, she had to check on the other wounded but she always returned back to the young soldier. He never cried out, just whispered a near silent 'thank you' and held her hand tightly. 

She could hear the men being told to stay put until further orders were given. Most were used to the routine by now. Stand around until directed where to go next. It was something she was adjusting too. Ignoring those yelling commands around her, she fixed her mangled uniform and coat as much as possible and looked up at her patient/companion. 

"I'll be right back." She tapped the young soldier's leg before walking away in search of Medic Christianson. 

She found him talking to one of the other medics, standing near a different tank. "Arthur, what do we do now?" She asked, rubbing her hands together to try and warm them up. Spring and its accompanying warmth could not come soon enough. 

"We need to find the aid station they have here. Hopefully get the men moved there and transported to a hospital." He said, lighting a cigarette. After a drag, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, I'll go. Keep an eye on those around here."

"I'll come with you." She said probably far too brightly if the looks given to her said anything. 

His green eyes narrowed at her a moment before he shrugged. "Fine. Let's go."

She started to follow him, arms wrapped around herself in the large army-issued coat. For a second she wondered if she should tell Boyd where she was going then she dismissed it. He was not her keeper. She was here to do her job. 

They wandered into the corpse-like city of Haguenau. It looked desolate. A mere illusion of what it had once been before war corrupted its beauty. Bombed buildings, craters in the streets, the staining of blood scattered along the ground and snow. Anna had never seen a place like this before. 

After receiving directions from a passing Sergeant, they found the building housing the aid station. It was a two-story house that looked semi-stable, but far better than others surrounding it. Which was not a high standard. Anna and Arthur quickly ascended the steps and walked inside, not just to get out of the cold but to avoid the sporadic mortars. 

"Something you need?" A voice asked them as soon as Arthur closed the door behind them. 

The two looked over to see a man watching them from a side room. He had short black hair, thin beard, open face and medic badge on his arm. His head was tilted to the side, the cap on his head sliding slightly with the movement.

"We just arrived with our company and we've got wounded." Arthur said, taking charge and moving another step into the building. 

"Uh huh." The man eyed them then turned back and called out toward another room. "Hey, Roe!" He looked back at the two by the door, it was obvious the calculations crossing his mind as he prepared his question. "How many wounded?"

"Eighteen."

"Shit. What happened?"

Anna kept back, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The dark-haired medic's eyes flickered towards her occasionally as if wondering what she was doing there but chose not to ask. Rubbing her hands together, a brief smile lifted the corners of her lips. Just being indoors, the permanent chill in her bones receded just enough she did not worry her legs would turn to icicles. It had only been a few days since the company left the small French town but being continuously outdoors, day and night, was something Anna found she disliked fervently. She looked over as she heard footsteps coming around the corner. 

Arthur was still talking to the dark-haired medic, explaining what happened. "They laid landmines in the road, then when we stopped they fired on us from the surrounding woods. Perfect fucking ambush."

"Damn Nazis." The medic shook his head. "You hear that, Gene?"

The one called for came around the corner. He also had dark hair, pale skin and a sharp jawline. His eyes though were dull and a hint of red lingered around his nose like he was getting over a cold. His uniform was clean but even that could not distract from how bone-deep weary he appeared. "I 'eard. We got room upstairs. Won't be an issue."

She froze, her mind whirling. That voice. She recognized it. Not many medics she had encountered had such a distinct Cajun drawl. Her brain frantically raced trying to remember where she knew it from. 

"Eugene?" She found herself asking, hesitation in her voice. The man's head whipped over to stare at her. "Eugene Roe?"

"Yes, ma'am. Have we met?"

"Yes… I mean." She tucked some loose stands of her hair behind her ear, nervous that he would not remember her. "It…. It was back in Albourne. We did some training together. I'm Anna… Anna Cooper."

One could watch the light bulb go off in his mind and his eyes light up. "Chérie?" His voice almost held an element of awe to it, that she was here and real. 

She nodded, feeling tears fill her eyes. There was something in the simple nickname that tugged at her heart's strings. It reminded her of a time before war. Before blood and screams. Before the memories of death were stronger than memories of home. When it would just be the two of them at the aid station in Albourne practicing bandaging one another or swapping stories of their homes when homesickness struck them. 

He hesitated for a moment before walking towards her. Seeing him move, she practically sprinted to him. They collided in that drafty building in Haguenau and for a moment, both felt like they could feel the sunshine on their faces and a spring rain to cleanse the taint of death from their skin. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His own arms enclosed around her much smaller frame, surrounding her in warmth. Tears slipped down her cheeks, wetting his ODs. For once, she was not even ashamed. 

"It's alright, chérie, it's alright."

She laughed wetly, tipping her head up to look at him. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you."

"I got that impression." 

"Don't ruin the moment, Gene."

He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It's good to see ya too." He released her to step back and fully look at her. It was then he seemed to finally noticed her attire, or lack thereof. His eyes narrowed staring at her bare legs and short uniform boots before jumping back up to her face. "How did ya end up here? And what 'appened to ya uniform? Ya must be freezin'."

"It's a long story...and we ran out of bandages, so…" she shrugged, gesturing to her clothes, self-conscious of her exposed skin. 

Gene and the other medic shared a look before Gene looked back. "I expect to ‘ear it later, and we'll find ya some spare ODs. Spina, we got any in the new winter lot?"

"Uh...I think so." The dark-haired medic responded, eyebrows almost touching his forehead. 

"How many wounded y’all got?" Gene asked Anna.

"Eighteen."

"Bring 'em here. We'll make room. Medics?"

Arthur answered this time, arms crossed over his chest. "Three medics and Nurse Cooper."

"Good. Know how long y’all stayin'?"

"No." She peeked over at Arthur, who confirmed her answer with a short nod. "We only just arrived."

Gene looked over at Arthur. "Careful bringin' 'em here. We'll get space set and some coffee for ya." He peered down at Anna, eyes softening. "Let's get ya some warmer clothes, chérie."

"I swear you're an angel… a Cajun angel."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever ya say." Putting an arm around her shoulders, he guided her towards a different room. 

And for a moment, she was reminded that one could find joy even in the midst of war. 

*****

The tank commander stood in the back of the crumbling, dank room observing the scene before him. He had followed Captain Evans and his two lieutenants to the HQ for the battalion holding Haguenau. Personally, he would rather be back with his men instead of here listening to formal introductions. This battalion did specifically ask for him and his platoon, so he steeled himself to get through this. 

"I'm Captain Evans of the 103rd Infantry Division. This is Lieutenant Diggs and Lieutenant Cox. Behind them is Staff Sergeant Collier of the Armored Division." The Captain, who was clearly the oldest in the room by at least a decade or two, stood in the middle of what most likely used to be a nice living room, if the damaged chandelier hanging above him said anything. Now the place looked somewhere between trashed and abandoned. His two lieutenants stood just behind him as the introductions took place. "I'll get to the damn point, eh? We were blitz attacked on our way here, lost twenty-two men and another eighteen wounded. Fucking Krauts. I'm requesting permission to regroup and have our wounded taken care of before we move out."

The red-head with the Captain's bars on his jacket nodded quickly, granting permission before Captain Evans even finished asking. "Of course. We don't have a lot to spare but we will what we can." He reached his hand out to shake hands with the grizzled captain. "I'm Captain Winters of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

"Paratroopers, eh?" The older man eyed the other captain after shaking hands. "Heard you are some mean bastards. Nice to see the reputation isn't wrong for once."

"Just doing our jobs."

"Right. We'll get outta here, eh? Thank you again, Captain."

"Sure." Captain Winters stated kindly but still with a hint of a guarded tone. "You need anything, ask for myself or Lieutenant Speirs of Easy Company."

With a final nod, Captain Evans and his two lieutenants walked out. A strange silence fell over those in the room after the door slammed shut behind the Infantrymen. Don suddenly felt like he was back in the elementary school yard and was waiting to get picked for a team. Thankfully the silence did not last long. 

"Armored Division? Are you our supposed tanks?" A dark-haired man asked, sitting propped up in a corner, flask openly in hand. This was his first time speaking, instead having just watched the prior introductions with a cocky grin.

Don eyed him, noting the Captain bars on his uniform. "Yes, sir. 2nd Armored Division or what's left of it."

Captain Winters stepped forward to shake Don's hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Yeah, could have used you two months ago. Hell, even a month ago could have saved lives." The other Captain muttered then took a sip from his flask. Don tensed but then noticed the unnamed Captain's aggression seemed more directed at whatever happened two months ago versus Don himself. 

The red-head looked over his shoulder. "Nix…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Winters looked back at Don. "How many tanks do you have?"

"Four, sir."

"Good...good. There is talk of some smaller towns nearby we will need you for, to provide assistance with liberating and securing. Until we know for sure, your men find somewhere to stay. As of now, you are under my direct command, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"That'll be all, Sergeant Collier."

Don gave a quick salute and headed back out into the bombed out town. As he walked back towards the tanks, he thought about the man whose command he was now under. Captain Winters. There was a calculating intelligence in his eyes, not in a malicious way, but more as a chess master. When he asked Don about the number of tanks, it was apparent his mind immediately took the information and began processing how best to utilize them. Don also noticed how when a mortar landed particularly close to the building, making the few pictures left on the walls shake, neither the red-headed Captain nor the dark-haired one flinched. At all. The tank commander was unsure fully what to make of the other Captain- this Nix- but he approved so far of what he has seen in Captain Winters. He was a man obviously in control with his authority but was not so far up in the clouds he forgot about his foot soldiers. A rare trait amongst Regiment in Don's opinion. 

By the time Don arrived back, it seemed most of the infantrymen had dispersed into the city leaving the tanks and their crews waiting for him. He hoped they could find a decent building to claim without resorting to violence. At this point, he was not above punching a few Privates to make sure his crew got a good roof over their heads. 

"What's the orders?" Binkowski asked, eyeing the city warily. 

Don sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before answering. "Under a Captain Winters now. Said to stay put until orders are confirmed but sounds like we'll help secure some towns nearby."

"Heard they're paratroopers." Davis said. He leaned against his tank, lighting up a cigarette. 

"Yep." The sound of a mortar went off nearby. Don watched Norman startle out of the corner of his eye then rub his nose on his sleeve. He made a mental note to check on the kid once they got settled.

"Paratroopers?" One of Davis' crew muttered, standing just off to the side. 

"The idiots that volunteered to jump out of planes." Binkowski answered with a snort and shake of his blond head. 

"On purpose?" The crew member's eyes widened. Don tried to remember the man's name. Kohl… Colbert… Coulson… something like that. 

Gordo said, sitting on top of Fury. "Heard they are some real sonsofbitches."

Don smirked. "Guess we'll find out. Let's find somewhere to claim before all the houses are filled up."

The men began to move, ready to find somewhere to bunk down. Don surveyed around once more, wondering what awaited them in this hell hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, what did y'all think about meeting up with Easy?
> 
> Comments feed my soul and muse!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends!   
> I am so sorry its taken me so long to get this chapter out. My muse abandoned me and then my laptop started not cooperating but here is the next chapter! Yay!  
> Leave a comment to feed my muse!  
> And thank you to everyone who has commented/subscribed/bookmarked so far! I can't tell you how much that means to me.

The sunrise lit up the morning sky with an array of beautiful, pastel colors. Anna could only hope it was a good sign for the day. She rubbed a hand over her tired eyes as she carefully walked over the rubble on the city's streets, dodging icy puddles and mud. Gene was going to be quite upset with her later, but she tried not to think about that now. 

Quickly, she hurried up the creaky steps of the old two-story home. It looked similar to most of the other buildings but its door was dirty and faded red with a rickety looking porch only half standing. She made a mental note to thank Boyd for his surprisingly clear directions, otherwise she knew she would have been wandering for a while and on these streets, that was far from safe. As quietly as possible, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. She had been invited here, actually forced to come here if Boyd's look yesterday said anything, but she still felt like an invader. The idea of setting foot inside the men's barracks was something her mind fervently refused to acknowledge; it just was not even a possibility in her mind. Though this building was not technically an army barrack in the literal sense, she still felt like an intruder because it was sleeping/housing quarters for the men. 

Her grandmother would be furious if she ever found out Anna entered the men's quarters…. especially letting herself in. The thought tampered down Anna's nerves slightly as she thought of the horrified look on the elderly woman's face, if she ever discovered this. It lightened her mood for a brief moment. 

In the room to her left, a soldier sprawled on a mangy looking couch with an arm thrown over his eyes. If she had not been able to see his chest rising and falling, she would have gone to check his pulse for how still he was otherwise. In that same room another soldier sat in a high-backed chair with his head tipped back, eyes closed and snoring like a chainsaw. Not recognizing either man, she guessed they were from one of the other tank crews. The sounds of movement and soft talking to her right had her quietly turning in that direction, hoping to allow the soldiers their well-deserved sleep. 

She startled when a head popped around the corner, covering her mouth quickly before a scream could escape. The man had a face that reminded her vaguely of a bulldog, thick jaw and deep-set eyes. He scanned her for a moment in a way that felt more like an assessment than any kind of leering. 

He grunted then jerked his head back the way he had come. "This way." He muttered only to disappear just as quickly as he appeared. 

Through her heart still hammered in her chest from the unexpected startle, she took a deep breath in an attempt to steel her nerves. Sudden, frightened screaming would most likely get her or someone else shot. It was too early to be shot in her opinion. Best she try to suppress any girly screams for now. Or at least until after she got some sleep. 

She followed the man around the corner only to encounter what most likely used to be a kitchen but was missing some key utilities. The faded, peeling wallpaper only added to the desolate feel. Just off center and close to a window facing the river was a table with three men sitting around it. Two others leaned against a countertop, mugs in hand. What quiet conversation had been going before her arrival ceased as she came into view. 

"Anna?"

"Good morning." She attempted to smile but worried it came out more as a grimace. The need for sleep was beginning to claw at her mind. 

"Sit down," Boyd immediately stood up, gesturing to his chair at the table. "You want some coffee? I reckon we got some left."

"That would be lovely, thank you." Knowing she probably would lose the fight, she went ahead and took his seat. Something she had learned about Boyd Swan over the past almost two weeks she had known him, he was a gentleman but beyond that…. he was stubborn. 

Don leaned back in the chair next to her, cigarette between his lips. "Morning." He stated in a gravelly voice, lingering traces of sleep apparent in the sound. He must not have been awake long. 

"Good morning." She flashed him a quick smile, willing the warmth to dissipate from her cheeks, or at least hoping no one noticed the blush. This schoolgirl crush on him was ridiculous, and she knew it. A peek of those blue eyes and her heart beat a drumroll in her chest that rivaled any band. 

Boyd set a tin cup in front of her, steam tantalizingly drifting out of it. "Didn't think you'd be here this early. Why ain't you sleepin'?" Boyd asked. 

She took a sip, the warmth delightful even if the taste was less than desirable. "Um, well, I'm supposed to be but I wanted to see y’all before, or you might come busting down the door again." She directed the last part to Boyd with a mock glare. He was lucky none of the medics carried guns with how he burst into the aid station demanding to see her. 

He shrugged unapologetically. "Just wanted to make sure you was alright. We didn't know where you disappeared to. I see you got some new clothes."

"Yeah," she glanced down at the ODs she now wore. They were ill-fitting, clearly meant for a man, not a short nurse. She had to roll up the hems of the trousers and the sleeves multiple times and she swore she still looked like a child playing dress-up in their parent's clothes. On the other hand, they were far warmer than her nurse’s torn uniform and right now, that was more important. "Gene let me have one of their spare medic uniforms."

"Mmm… explains the patch here." Don touched the screaming eagle patch over her upper arm. 

It was an innocent, teasing gesture but it still shot sparks through her system. Her eyes jumped up to meet his lingering gaze. He gave her a quick wink before leaning his chair back. The warmth of a blush reappeared on her cheeks. Quickly, she took a sip of her watery coffee, well aware of the others sitting or standing around quietly in the room. 

"Gene? That medic with the southern accent?" Boyd asked, leaning against the wall nearby. His question was innocent enough but the scrutinizing look on his face said otherwise. 

"Boyd…"

"He just seemed real protective of you, that's all."

She groaned, setting her cup down on the table and dropping her face into her hands. A few chuckles drifted from around the room but she ignored them. Actually, now that she was sitting still with her eyes closed, she could feel a wave of sleep threatening to crash over her and pull her under, with or without her consent. The coffee should have been helping to keep her awake but at this point, the warmth in her belly only made her want to curl up like a cat and doze off.

A conversation picked up around her, two of the men in the room speaking in a low drone. She recognized the sound of the man with the bulldog face, he made some kind of remark that had Don chuckle next to her before replying. Her mind refused to process the words though. The conversation became a background noise as she teetered on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. She should get back to the aid station. She needed to get back to the aid station to help Roe. Yet her body refused to comply. 

"Anna."

The soft whisper of her name caught her attention from the sleep-induced haze. She turned her head slightly to meet Don's concerned gaze. 

"When did you last sleep?"

"Mmm?"

He huffed at her noncommittal answer. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No…. I stayed up to cover so some of the other medics could sleep. I'm fine. I should probably head back."

"Doll, I just watched you fall asleep sitting right there."

"No… I was just… resting my eyes. I should get back."

"Like hell you are." He raised his gaze to look over her head, his volume rising from the whisper they had been speaking in. "Boyd, take Anna upstairs and let her have one of the cots or bed. We'll take her back once she gets some sleep."

"No, it's fine…." She weakly tried to argue but snapped her mouth shut when he turned his gaze back to her.

"If you don't walk up those stairs right now, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you up them." Don stated, then took a hit of his cigarette. The statement should have sounded like a joke but with his matter-of-fact tone and the way he watched her, Anna knew he was serious. 

"Come on," Boyd put a hand on her shoulder. "We was gonna ask you to check Norman anyway."

That caught her attention. She whipped around to look up at Boyd. "Is he alright? What happened?"

"He's fine. Think he's got a cold.... maybe a fever too."

With that information, she more readily followed the gunner up towards the nearby stairs and up to the second floor. There were four doors in the hallway but he led her to the furthest one on the right. Inside was a bed big enough for two people, a large dresser, nightstand and a short couch off in the corner. What immediately caught her attention though was the figure lying in bed, curled up like a child and coughing with a dry and scratchy sound. Her own exhaustion was forgotten as she darted past Boyd to drop next to the figure under the thick quilt. 

"Hey, Norman." 

"Anna?" He blearily opened his red-rimmed, glassy eyes. He sniffled, wiping his nose on the edge of his sleeve. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Ok…"

"Liar." She teased, running a hand through his hair gently after feeling his forehead. He felt mildly warm but nothing she was too concerned with yet. That cough had her more worried. "What all hurts, Norm?"

"Boyd thinks it's just a cold."

"I know. Running nose, scratchy throat, slight fever… anything else? Headache? Fatigue?"

"Uh huh." He mumbled, eyes closing as he relaxed under her touch, sleep guiding him away from awareness. 

He looked so painfully young, lying in the bed. It broke her heart to know this was someone who was forced to kill people on a regular basis. He should be back home and going to school or flirting with his crush or playing baseball with friends. He should not be here. None of them should be here. 

Yet here they were. 

She looked around her and found his canteen laying just underneath the bed. Picking it up she was pleased it was at least half full. 

"Norm, I want you to drink some of this before you fall back asleep. Can you do that for me, please?"

With a painful groan, he shifted enough to drink a couple of mouthfuls of the water before handing it back to her and slinking back down onto the bed. She stood up but was surprised when his hand darted out to grab hers. 

"Don't go yet." He said just barely above a whisper. It was the pleading look in his eyes that convinced her. 

"Ok, sweetie," she cooed, running her hand over his sweaty forehead again, "I'll stay a little longer."

She looked back over at Boyd, hovering near the door with an expression on his face she could not distinguish. 

"Can you fill this back up and get him some of those crackers from your rations?"

Boyd nodded, moving to take the canteen from her hand. "Sure thing. Anythin' else you need?"

"No, I'll stay just for a little bit. Can you come get me in an hour or two? I really need to head back to the aid station."

"You also need to rest. Those bags under your eyes look like permanent bruises now."

"I will." She snapped then immediately felt bad and sighed. "I'm sorry, I will. I promise."

"S'alright. I'll come back in an hour."

"Thank you." She smiled, even if it was only a twitch of her lips. As Boyd walked out, she knelt back down next to the young soldier. His eyes were already closed, breathing slowing as slumber took hold once again. She rested her head on the side of the bed, carding her fingers through his hair. A hacking cough overtook him, startling them both. Once he settled, she continued her ministrations, humming softly. She hoped it was just a cold. That it was nothing more severe. 

She made a mental note that when Boyd came her in an hour, she would make sure to ask Gene if anyone had found tea or honey laying around. 

*****

Don watched Boyd and Anna go up the stairs. When he turned back, he saw a couple of the men's gaze lingering on the stairs. 

"The nurse is off limits." He stated with such finality that had at least one of the men's heads snap towards him. As if his statement sealed an invisible decree, the men in the kitchen turned back to whatever they were doing prior. 

Davis looked at him from his spot across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter. "She yours?"

"I thought you don't participate in gossip?"

The other tank commander shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Don ignored the question, even if he could feel Davis' gaze frequently drifting to him. He focused on the map on the table before him. It was not necessary for him to study it but the action had become a habit of his whenever his crew moved to a new location. Knowing what other towns were nearby, rivers, roads, anything that could be of use later, he tried to memorize it. At this point, he figured by the time the war was over he would have most of Europe and North Africa geography permanently seared into his brain. 

A couple minutes later, Boyd came back down and returned to his seat next to Don. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed deeply. "She's workin' herself too hard. Looks like she ain't slept in a week."

Don kept his thoughts to himself but he was loathed to agree. Exhaustion hung off her like a heavy cape making her feet drag as she walked. Witnessing how easily she fell asleep just sitting at the table did not help her case. 

"Told her I'd be back up in an hour to get 'er."

Don raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend. "Are you going to?" 

Boyd smirked. "I'll check on her but if she's sleepin', I'm gonna leave her be. Lord knows she needs it." He paused, glancing towards the stairs. "I'd bet my own Bible she's asleep right now."

"Mmm… Norman alright?"

"He's sleepin'. She's takin' care of him."

He was not all surprised. Since they had arrived in Haguenau, Norman's health had plummeted. Don worried for his newest crew member. The poor kid looked miserable and these were certainly less than ideal conditions for someone sick. The kid had a bed and a roof over his bed…. he would pull through. He had too. Don would not even consider the alternative. Especially with Anna now looking after him. The small nurse would mother the hell out of whatever is wrong with the kid. With a smirk at the thought, Don went back to studying the map. 

Several hours later, he headed up the stairs to the room he shared with Boyd and Norman. 

A runner had come from Captain Winters requesting his presence at noon at HQ. Don agreed, sending the runner back on his way. Boyd met his annoyed gaze and they shared a mutual sigh. So much for them having a reprieve before being sent back out. 

Up the stairs he went and down the short hallway. The floorboards creaked under his boots; a sudden memory of his childhood home crossed his mind. Whenever he tried to sneak out of this bedroom as a child, he never could get far because of the damn loud floorboards. 

He opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle the room's occupants. As he registered what he saw, it brought a small smile to his lips and he paused at the sight. Norman was still curled up asleep on the bed, mouth open and breathing loud. On the other side of the bed, Anna lay on her side, hands tucked under her face, hair a wild mess around her. Boyd had mentioned when he came up to check on them, he had helped move Anna to the bed with her barely rousing. Clearly more tired than any of them assumed. 

Instead of waking her up like he intended to, he found himself closing the door quietly and just watching the two sleep. Yes, he knew it was creepy and if Boyd knew, the gunner would rightly smack him in the back of the head. Would not be the first time after Don did something stupid. 

War brings people together in the strangest of way. After the…. accident...he thought he would never have family again. That because of his stupid mistakes, he was destined to be alone forever. Which he rightly deserved. But then he went to war. He was thrown into a tank with four other men who quickly became brothers. 

If he needed to be distracted from commands and his own inner demons, he knew sitting down with Gordo would distract him for a while with his crazy stories of home and the shenanigans he did as a teenager. Gordo always had a joke or story to share to lighten the mood. 

Grady respected Don as a leader but never let him run him over; he could just as easily return Don's anger-fueled fire as follow his commands. It had taken some time for them to trust and respect one another, their tempers too similar. Now there was an underlying understanding between the two of them, that they took the worst of the jobs, that they would carry the most blood on their hands to spare the others. If Don had to get into a fist fight, there was no one else he would want more by his side. 

Then there was the man who had become more than a blood brother, a confidante, a best friend, a moral compass. Even in the first week of tank school, Boyd had looked over at Don one day, said he was proud to be by his side and thought Don was a good man. Don had laughed in Boyd's face but somehow it sealed a pact between them. Boyd's calm demeanor helped keep Don's temper down and even when it did flare up like a roman candle firework, Boyd was always there to rein it in. Neither of them drank so while the others went off to drink away the night, Don and Boyd found themselves sitting together silently and both were more than alright with that. 

Norman reminded Don of his little brother so much it physically hurt sometimes. He despised himself that it was HIS fault the boy was forced to lose that innocence he carried. It was HIM that made Norman kill. But this was war, and if they wanted to survive, they needed to be merciless. Don knew he overcompensated by making sure Norman ate and rested when they could. He showed the young soldier how to disassemble and reassemble his rifle, how to stab and slash, how to survive. He refused to let the boy die even through his own stupid mistakes. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the idea had been planted that making sure Norman survived this goddamn war would be his penance for his own failures. 

Before two weeks ago, these were the four people that mattered most to him. Even more than what was left of his blood relations. Losing Red, Norman's predecessor, had felt like a knife to the heart, even if he masked it for all to see. He refused to let the others see him grieve, he had to be strong for them. 

Now though, Anna had slipped past his heart's barriers and settled there in a place that he had not realized was empty until her presence filled the prior void spot. She remained in his thoughts more than he cared to admit. Her soft touch, her gentle spirit, those gemstone eyes, that faint scent… it all lingered with him like a summer's heat that no matter what you tried to do, day or night, you could not escape. He swore she was a siren, come to torment him. His life was proof enough he did not deserve someone like her, he never would deserve someone like her. She was gentleness and kindness wrapped up in a person. He was wrath and mistakes that cost people their lives. 

Yet still her presence persisted. 

Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and moved to her side. He hated to wake her. She looked so peaceful. 

"Anna." He whispered. "Anna, wake up." 

Overly aware of his actions, he squatted down to be eye level with her. He reached a hand over and brushed some loose strands of hair off her cheek. The sunlight coming through the dirty window made her red hair shine. "Come on, darling. Time to wake up."

He was unsure where the pet name came from but once it left his lips, it felt right. Before he could think too long about it, she began to stir. 

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyelids fluttered open but once the sunlight hit, they slammed closed once again. "No…" she whimpered, scrunching her nose up in dislike of either the sun or waking up. Either way, he was positive he had never seen anything as adorable before… and he never used the word adorable. 

Oh, he was so fucked now. 

He chuckled. "Come on, Anna."

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

She peeked an eye open at him. "I told Boyd to wake me in an hour."

"Yeah, well we thought you needed some sleep."

Grumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "overprotective mother hen", she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. 

Movement drew Don's gaze over to Norman who was shifting around. His eyes blearily opened; it took a few seconds to come out of sleep. Once his mind seemed to realize Anna was still half laying in the bed less than a foot away from him, he sat up like he had been shocked with electricity. 

"Don, I swear nothing happened. We just sleeping, I mean… I don't think…" a bout of coughing interrupted his frantic and hasty explanation. 

At that, the tank commander laughed loudly. "I know, Norman." He shifted back towards the door, watching the two amused. Anna's cheeks were pink now but she gave no other indication of hearing Norman's sleepy mumbling. 

"How are you feeling, Norm?" She asked, placing the back of her hand on his forehead. 

"Alright, I guess."

"Think you can come down and eat?"

He nodded sluggishly. They both rolled out the bed, him moving a bit slower. The whole way out of the door and down the stairs, Anna walked next to him, occasionally putting a hand on his shoulder or giving a word of encouragement. 

Don led the way back down, still smirking about Norman's hasty and confused comment. He would have to remember it to rib the kid later on when he was feeling better. Finally making it to the kitchen area, they deposited Norman at the table next to Gordo, who was nursing a cup of coffee. Boyd meandered over from reading on one of the couches in the common room, glasses still perched on his nose. 

As soon as Anna saw him, she stomped over and punched him in the arm. "You were supposed to wake me up in an hour."

Boyd winced and tried to shuffle out of range of another strike. "Well, you looked tired."

"What every girl wants to hear, Boyd, thank you."

Don was not the only one laughing at the interaction. 

Anna blushed as she seemed to notice the others about the area but ignored them, walking back over to Norman. "You just rest. I'll come back and check on you tonight. I'll see if they have anything to help at the aid station."

The kid nodded then started coughing again. 

"Don't worry, we'll take care of him." Gordo said, wrapping an arm around him and giving her a quick wink. 

She smiled back, cheeks still pink from her prior blush. "Thanks, Gordo."

Don figured it was time to speak up now. "Let's go, Anna. I'll walk you back." He was surprised when she followed him without hesitation after a quick goodbye to those from his crew. 

Don and Davis were lucky to have found an unoccupied house on the western side of Haguenau for their crews, further away from the river and the Germans across it. Binkowski and Peterson and their crews occupied the building just behind them. Here they did not have to worry so much about the frequent mortars and snipers. Though some of the holes in the floorboards were concerning, but it was a roof over their heads. 

The tank commander and nurse walked in silence past the other houses and buildings towards the aid station. The frost, hidden in the shadows, crunched under their boots. An unusual silence permeated the air, no shouting or sound of gunfire coming from the river. It made Don wary and he slowed down his typical purposeful stride to match hers, making sure to keep his body between hers and the direction of the river. He knew the action would be useless against a mortar but it helped alleviate some of his worry. 

They stopped at the back door to the aid station, the couple brick steps still intact, leading up to a small stoop and the back, wooden door. Don remained on the muddy ground while Anna stepped up onto the first step then turned around to face him. 

"Thank you for walking me back." 

He hummed, glancing further down the road. "You make sure to eat something now. Can't have you wasting away."

"Isn't that my job to take care of others?" She said cheekily. 

"Yeah, doesn't hurt to have someone looking out for you too."

It was a simple, truthful statement. If war taught anything, it was the need for others to watch your back both in dodging bullets and to share meals. War and death were malicious bastards, dragging down anyone into a black hole of melancholy before they could even realize they slipped in the first place. Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, the weight of them hit him firmly in the chest. Instead of meaning it as a comrade or friend, he realized he meant something more. Someone to look out for her in more than just the little things, but in everything. Shit. 

Her head snapped up, her gaze meeting his in a way that sent a tingle down his spine. Neither one moved as they stared at one another. The world threatened to fade away around them. She was beautiful, it was a fact. Even in ODs that threatened to swallow her, she still managed to radiate warmth and kindness. He had caught more than one soldier eyeing her up. It burned him up on the inside but he had no right to fight them over their actions. She was not his…. even if he was beginning to wish she was. She was too good for him. Too pure. Too beautiful. His presence would only taint her. 

He needed a distraction, something to break the hold they both seemed stuck in. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You still have the knife on you?" 

She blinked rapidly as if awakening from a dream. "Yes." She stuttered then leaned over slightly to lift her right pants leg up. 

He looked down and noticed it strapped to her lower leg, just above her boot. "Good."

Even though the conversation halted, it seemed neither one wanted to move away. Her eyes held his once again as if waiting for something. A sign? A word? A fucking billboard with neon lights? Hell if he knew. The problem was, he could feel it too. There was something shifting between them and it both terrified and elated him. 

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and slipped an erratic strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb trailing down her jawline after, her soft skin like velvet against his own roughness. Fuck he had been dying to touch her again. Instead of alleviating the need, now it seemed to burn stronger in him. 

"Don…" she whispered as his thumb hinted at touching her lower lip. 

The way she said it in that breathy tone, the light in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks, all of it combined sent a bolt of lightning through him that threatened any self-control he had. He wanted to pull her small frame against him, to taste her and see if her lips were as soft as they looked, if that heavenly scent that surrounded her came from her skin or hair. He wanted her. Fucking hell, he wanted her. And if the way her eyes were dilated and her breathing uneven, perhaps she wanted him too. 

The door beside them suddenly opened, jolting them both back to reality. Whatever moment they had, dashed away as a paratrooper glared at them then pushed past them. 

"I should…."

"Yeah," he said, pulling out a cigarette. He needed to keep his hands busy otherwise he would be tempted to pull her against him. "I'll send someone to come get you later."

"That's not necessary."

"Maybe, but I sure as hell don't like you walking around by yourself."

"Fine." She stood up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss to his jawline, an innocent ode to the last time she kissed him. "Be safe, Sergeant." She whispered against his skin then quickly turned and ducked inside the aid station. 

"Damn it." He muttered after his brain finally decided to restart. Such a simple touch should not make him lose all sense. He kicked a loose rock, sticking the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. The smoke curled in his lungs, helping solidify him into reality. He glanced back at the door, briefly wondering what it would be like to storm into the building and kiss her like he wanted too. But before he could do something stupid, he headed towards the regiment HQ, the lingering hint of lilacs danced in the corners of his mind. 


End file.
